


all i fear is nothing

by Clementessa



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Aerith needs a hug, Aftermath of Violence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Could also use a slap, Eventual Smut, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Pain Train, Trauma, Unreliable Narrator, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:47:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27650219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clementessa/pseuds/Clementessa
Summary: Post-Remake. Oh, it would hurt to watch him fall in love with someone else. But it was the right thing to do. Better than slowly watching Cloud fall in love with her, knowing that tragedy hurtled towards them like a runaway train.And yet.--Aerith tries to make Cloti happen but forgets one thing: Cloud gets a say too.
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Cloud Strife
Comments: 224
Kudos: 280





	1. Kalm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Allusions throughout this fic of Cloud/Tifa, Barret/Tifa

Aerith had known she was different from her very first memory. As early as she could remember, she could hear the planet murmuring in her mind. Vivid sensations and images that fluttered in concert with her mother’s warm touch, making her feel at home in her childhood prison. Allowing her to experience bits and pieces of the innocence that a child ought to have.

And yet, from nearly the very moment she could remember, she had known the evil that lay hidden behind Shinra’s stark minimalist halls. She felt it in the vibrations in the walls, heard it in the voices of the planet, saw it in the bruises that speckled her mother’s pale skin. If she looked back—something she desperately tried to avoid—even as a child, she had known too much.

The difference being, as an innocent child, she had no idea what was coming.

Sure, even after the escape from those halls, after feeling her mother return to the Lifestream, she had always been an oddity. She saw it in Elmyra’s reactions to things Aerith had felt in the Lifestream, things that no one had any right knowing. Even in the way the adults eyed the flowers she brought to them. Gratitude came hand-in-hand with curiosity and with curiosity came questions and inevitably with questions came answers that Aerith had learned were far too dangerous to give. So she adapted and grew used to giving the answers people wanted to hear, hiding her otherness behind the most effective veil possible.

Smiles. Teasing. A dash of playfulness.

The brightest smiles couldn’t hide her strangeness now. How could she explain to anyone that four months ago she awoke with the feelings and memories of a life she never lived? How could she explain her absolute terror of the man they were now hunting, the immensity of _his_ poison on the Lifestream?

How could she describe the feeling of standing outside the Loveless theatre, her flower basket strangled in her clammy grip, waiting for the beautiful blue eyes that made her so badly want to live, and yet heralded the ticking of her own personal doomsday clock? How could she explain that although they had defeated the arbiters of fate, hope somehow seemed more painful than the certainty of death.

No, this, she carried alone. It was a burden but then again, she was used to carrying all kinds of burdens.

What was one more?

Aerith leaned against the creaking wooden balcony railing on the top floor of the inn. Kalm was a cozy town on the coast just east of Midgar. The ocean air was brisk and damp against her skin, a balm from the heat that had exhausted her when they had trekked across the plains from Midgar. If she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could sense the stories of the deep ocean. It was a small treasure to the flower girl who had lived her whole life surrounded by metal and debris. But what had surprised her the most was the quiet. It made her restless. Her ears itched for the hum of the sun lamps and the chatter of Sector 5.

Home. Her stomach lurched at the thought of Elmyra. She knew her mom would be okay—caring for sweet Marlene would keep her busy and fulfilled—but Aerith would miss the way she’d braid her hair and sing as she made dinner. Aerith was going to miss her flowers and the pond—the little happy place she’d cultivated with nothing but her own hands (and maybe a little help from the Lifestream).

Aerith shook her head to push those thoughts away. It took some effort, but it helped to lick her lips to savor the salt carried from the breeze. She might never return home, but she _would_ celebrate every new experience and every small treasure she’d find along the way.

The sliding door opened behind her and she turned expectantly.

Despite her best efforts, she grinned when Cloud stepped through, his combat boots padding with surprising softness on the balcony. She’d seen firsthand how his body transformed into a weapon, how he moved with precision and power that rivalled Red XII’s animal instincts, and it never ceased to awe her. It didn’t help that he was beautiful too—she couldn’t think of him any other way since Wall Market—and being around him made her blood rush to her face and her limbs tingle. She felt like a silly girl with a crush—which was a major inconvenience to her plans. _I’m still allowed to enjoy this,_ she told herself, _just a little._

“Heya,” she said.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Oh, you know, trying to figure out how long I can go without getting a sunburn. I’m up to 20 minutes now. I think that’s a record for me.”

He stepped closer, peering at her with those intense eyes. “I think you need to recount,” he said and gestured to her neck.

Her skin throbbed hot when she brushed her hand against it. “Shit.” _That’s going to peel._ She would know. She was still recovering from the burns she’d gotten from the journey in. She learned the hard way that the strength of the sun was on a whole different level than Midgar’s sun lamps. “Well, serves me right.”

His expression changed in a moment, inscrutably, before he said, “I can heal it for you if you want.”

“Nah, I got some cream from the innkeeper earlier. Save it for something important.” She turned back to the view, trying to pick out the little patch of land she would choose for her garden, if only life were different.

Before she could react, her skin prickled from a current of cold. She couldn’t help but gasp.

Healing.

Aerith rounded on him, ready to protest.

But he shrugged at her casually, coming beside her to lean against the railing. “Bodyguard duties.” When she snorted, he added, “Besides, you can’t have a healer that looks like she needs healing. It’s bad for our reputation.”

“You worry too much. It was just a sunburn.”

“You don’t worry enough,” he returned. Then he raised an eyebrow pointedly. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Aerith considered him for a moment. “You’re not as prickly as you pretend to be, are you?” She raised her eyebrows. “It’s okay, you can admit it. Grump on the outside, big softie on the inside.” She poked him in the side which he dodged effortlessly. She laughed anyway; she liked teasing and prodding him out of his shell more than anything. It was a revelation to see what he would do next. He was a puzzle—the kind where she could spend years trying to solve him and still spend the whole time laughing.

His gaze never left her as he smiled, the barest tug at his lips. She thought her heart was going to jump out of her chest at the sight of it. “Only with—”

“Hey guys!”

_Tifa!_ Aerith turned in surprise, her heels bumping against the railing as she turned.

Her gaze landed on the woman leaning against the sliding door. Her friend. Aerith never had many friends growing up. She’d either been too strange to talk to or tossed aside when she was no longer useful.

But Aerith could talk about anything with Tifa and she knew that her coffee brown eyes would hold nothing but understanding for her. That made things worse. Made these moments feel more and more like a betrayal. Aerith knew about her feelings about Cloud—this Tifa had never said them aloud, but another Tifa had—and that they were far too like her own was…another inconvenience. Another fresh source of pain.

Aerith did not want to cause any more pain than what was already on the horizon. 

“So, you coming?” Tifa asked her, warmly.

“Coming where?” Aerith replied as sunnily as she could summon, trying to get her head back into the game.

Tifa’s eyes darted from Aerith to Cloud in confusion. “Me and Cloud were thinking of exploring the town while we’re here. He was going to see if you’d like to come.”

Cloud’s eyes lingered on Tifa for a beat before adding, “No use for all of us to wait here while Barret makes contact with his AVALANCHE guy.” They were hoping AVALANCHE would relay their messages to Wedge and Marlene and Elmyra too.

“It’ll be fun. We could check out the shops and the little bar down the street,” Tifa enthused.

Aerith watched them carefully before waving them off. “I’m okay. I don’t mind staying in. It’s actually nice to have a room with a bed after camping on the road the last few days.”

“It’s a small town so we’ll be back before sundown. You’ll have all night to enjoy your bed!” Tifa insisted with puppy dog eyes.

Aerith hesitated, glancing at Cloud who returned the look with coolness. She wanted to go, to see more of the town before they left tomorrow, to spend more time with her friends—but she knew she was getting too attached. It wouldn’t do any of them any good.

It was hard not to bristle with a bit of jealousy. If Tifa was beautiful standing still, then she was utterly stunning in motion, embodying the kinetic energy of a waterfall with the elegance of a dancer. Between her knock-out figure and her natural sweetness, even Aerith wanted to kneel at her feet— _although,_ she reasoned, _there was always the next timeline_. And Tifa and Cloud were childhood friends; they had history. They weren’t just a stunning visual match—they also had a connection that transcended the tragedy of their hometown. The charming little story wrote itself. 

All she needed to do was just stay out of their way. Even still, it couldn’t hurt to give things a push.

She smiled at them. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Shinra will probably be looking for me. I better lay low for a while. You guys have fun though!”

“Are you sure?” Cloud asked. “It’s not like you to say no to an adventure.”

Aerith shrugged. “After the Sephiroth and the Whispers, I think I could use a little break from adventure.” When Cloud raised his eyebrows at her, she added, “Really, I’m sure.”

They persisted for a few more minutes until she shooed them through the doors adamantly, with a grin that strained her cheeks. She kept up the façade even as she watched them walk through the town side by side, arms brushing with a familiarity that stung.

Oh, it would hurt to watch him fall in love with someone else.

But it was the right thing to do.

Better than slowly watching Cloud fall in love with _her_ , knowing that tragedy hurtled towards them like a runaway train.

And yet.

As the couple disappeared into the town bar, Aerith absently rubbed at the ache in her chest, as if she could brush it away.

* * *

Later, Aerith found Red XIII laying lazily near the hearth, bathing in the patch of sunlight streaming in from the open sliding doors. His tail drifted side to side as he dozed, his lean body falling and rising steadily. It startled her when one eye blinked open.

“Interesting strategy,” he said. 

“What strategy?”

“With Tifa and Cloud.”

“What’s wrong with playing a little matchmaker?” She asked innocently. “Besides, it’s rude to eavesdrop.”

“You aren’t just playing matchmaker.” His words surprised her, wiping the smile from her face. Her blush deepened as he continued. “As honorable as your intentions are, you aren’t the only one making decisions here. To pretend otherwise will hurt more than yourself.” There was nothing she could say in her defense. She knelt beside him and his tail curled around her as if to soothe the blunt edge of his words. “In any case, it won’t work. The arbiters of fate may be gone, but destiny has its anchors.”

_That’s exactly the problem_. Aerith forced a smile to her face. “Oh shush, you,” she said with a playfulness she didn’t quite feel, “I would never have let you see into the Lifestream if I’d known you’d be such a know-it-all.”

“I do not ‘know-it-all’ as you say. I trust my sense of smell.”

“What?”

“Humans express pheromones during courtship and mating. It’s very distinct. The pheromones from Cloud are usually—”

“—Don’t!” She gasped, covering her ears with her hands. “I’d really rather not hear about his—or anyone else’s—pheromones.”

He blinked at her slowly and Aerith’s face burned so hot, she figured he could probably feel it like the sun.

“It’s just too personal,” she insisted, lowering her hands.

Red XIII regarded her skeptically. “You humans have a strange sense of propriety.”

“We sure do,” she agreed before adding, “And are you always so nosy?”

“When I’m bored,” he answered truthfully.

Aerith cocked her head in confusion. “Didn’t they invite you along too?”

“They did. But like you, my species are rare in these parts and Shinra may be searching for me. Best not to test our luck.”

Aerith was taken aback—somehow, she’d forgotten that she wasn’t the only one with a target on her back. It was…strange. To not be the only oddity from Hojo’s lab.

Red XIII rose to his feet, stretching lazily. “I heard there was a small library down the hall. Would you like to join me in exploring it?”

She hesitated, but only for a moment. She’d sacrificed once already today. This, she could have for herself. This, she could savor.

She nodded eagerly, finding a smile already on her lips. “I’d love to.”

_Next time_ , she promised herself, as she followed his swaying tail down the hall, _I’ll do the right thing next time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these two as much as my eleven year old self did, which is saying something.
> 
> This will be updated every week! Stay tuned!


	2. All Aboard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Descriptions of violence/aftermath of massacre, dealing with trauma, noble idiocy

It was a hunt, or so they’d told themselves. Repeated it over and over as they listened to the rumors of the man with the black cape. From Kalm to Junon and then, boarding the rustiest cargo ship she’d ever seen, onwards to the western continent. They would find him and save the planet. And Aerith, armed with her memories of the past timeline, would help lead the way.

As Aerith stared at the blood-soaked deck, she was hit with the truth of it. This was no hunt.

He was leading them on a merry chase.

She was sick to her stomach. Not simply because of flesh and innards strewn about the ship that had been the crew, once, or the metallic stench of blood that permeated even the open air. Or the hulking mass of viscera that was left of the creature they killed—a twisted creature of Jenova.

No.

It was because she hadn’t seen it coming. She’d felt a strange sense of foreboding as they snuck onto the ship as precious cargo, but she’d dismissed it out of hand. She had no memories of the journey and so she’d assumed that it was because it was entirely uneventful. Nothing to change, no bullet to avoid. She assumed, and now nearly the entire crew had paid for it. Thirty lives, gone.

Because of her.

Aerith gripped the ship railing, breathing deep as she struggled to maintain her composure. She could not crumble now. There was so much left to do.

But she couldn’t get Sephiroth out of her head.

_She ran at him. There was no time to wait for the others. Sephiroth stood framed by the thunderous grey clouds that blanketed the sky from horizon to horizon, his grey hair and black cape billowing in the wind. It was just her and Cloud on deck. And Cloud stood frozen in place, his sword still holstered on his back._

_Sephiroth leaned close to the other man, whispered something she couldn’t hear over the gusts that battered them. Cloud trembled, as if fighting to retain control._

_When Aerith neared, Sephiroth turned to her, his ice blue eyes locking on. As he stepped forward towards her, Cloud—finally—moved, shifted to block him, whipping out his sword. The silver-haired man hardly noticed, as if Cloud was little more than a pest._

_“What happened to the wisdom of the Ancients?” His grin, so self-satisfied. She wanted to wipe it off his face. “Time is running out for you.”_

That look in his eyes. He knew. The bastard knew. The Whispers had stolen her memories when they touched her. Had tried to keep her on the predetermined path by any means possible. They had robbed her of any opportunity to change the future, to save the lives of these sailors.

And Sephiroth knew it. How could he possibly know? Unless…

Unless he had controlled the Whispers.

Aerith squeezed her eyes shut, the rocking of the ship against the waves adding to the sloshing of her stomach. Time _was_ running out. She could sense it from the planet. Sephiroth left a taint behind wherever he went, a bloodstain on the Lifestream, and it was growing. He was twisting reality to suit his needs and so far, they’d done little to stop him. She shivered and not from the cold.

_You’re okay,_ she told herself. She breathed in and out, counting her breaths until she was a little less nauseous, a little more steady. They needed to search the ship, gather the surviving crew, and send for help. She needed to do it.

When Aerith left to check in with Barret, her hands were still trembling.

She found him at the bridge, surrounded by a small crowd as he expertly coordinated the search team with the clean-up crew. They looked as she felt—detached and numb, like ghosts floating through a nightmare. She understood why they flocked to him—he exuded safety and comfort. To hear his voice, calm, controlled, confident—it was a relief so visceral, she nearly unraveled right then and there into sobs.

After the little crowd dispersed, the big man found her and enveloped her in his arms, patting the top of her head. He was steady and strong and smelled like coffee and gunpowder.

“It’s okay to be upset,” he whispered and she wondered if it was written all over her face, “If you’re not upset after something like this, you’re not human.”

His low gravelly voice was sweet like a lullaby. Aerith clung to him, afraid if she let go, she’d topple over. “I’ll be okay,” she said, perhaps to convince herself.

“I know you will be. But take as long as you need, alright?” He bent down to catch her gaze, his warm brown eyes gentle.

She nodded, gratefully, giving him one last squeeze before letting him go.

“We didn’t see this coming though. What the hell does it mean for us?” He asked himself and then shook his head as if shedding the idea. “Never mind. Can’t be thinking like that right now.”

Aerith froze, not responding as a crew member pulled him away. He didn’t see her expression and she was desperate to hide it. It surged again, the shivers, the sense that she had been tossed into the deep and had no escape.

_What happened to the wisdom of the Ancients?_

She couldn’t save thirty lives, and yet the fate of the world rested on her shoulders?

Aerith stalked out of the bridge, down the stairs, and out the bulkhead doors to the deck. The wind howled, pummeling her with rain.

She barely felt it as she stumbled to the sides and vomited over the edge of the ship.

* * *

Tifa met Aerith in the room they shared, just after she’d changed out of her soaked clothes. When she hugged her, Aerith held on tight. She didn’t want to let go. But Aerith had already wasted so much time.

Together, they opened every door on the ship, searched every compartment for survivors. Her composure was brittle, cracking each time they were forced to walk past another broken body, another life returned too early to the Lifestream. Tifa squeezed her hand comfortingly but Aerith was numb to it, as if her mind were in its own bubble, completely detached from her body.

There were six sailors they found who had been lucky enough to sleep through the massacre. She tried to prepare them for the gory hallways. It didn’t seem to help.

As they waited for one man who vomited noisily in the bathroom, Tifa rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. The other woman was pale which exacerbated the dark bags under her eyes. The night had taken a toll on all of them. “You okay?”

Aerith tried to summon some life into her voice. “Every person we find alive is a win, right?”

Tifa’s brows furrowed. “Right.”

Truthfully, even Aerith was tired of pretending. But if she opened up now, she didn’t think she’d ever stop crying. “While you wait for our friend here,” she nodded to the bathroom door, “I’ll go ahead and check the rest of the floor.”

Tifa stepped forward, grabbing her hand. “You sure?”

Aerith nodded gratefully. “I’ll meet you on the bridge.”

Her friend hesitated but let her go anyway.

When Aerith stepped out into the empty, bloody hall, she sighed. She wasn’t sure why. She searched the rest of the rooms down the hall, each one empty and the beds unmade. She imagined these crew members awakening in the night from the sounds of the slaughter and running to help. Running to their deaths.

She moved on to the next one. The final room at the end of the hall. She didn’t bother knocking anymore; she expected the room to be empty. It wasn’t.

Cloud, sitting on a cot with his back to her, head in his hands. His gauntleted hand raked his hair in frustration. Whatever Sephiroth had told him, it had gotten under his skin.

Concern slid across her bubble of numbness in slow motion and it almost surprised her to feel something, finally. She took a step towards him before she stopped herself.

_Time is running out for you._

It couldn’t be her. The realization cut deep, bursting her bubble and her composure. She found herself gripping her throbbing chest as if she could staunch the flow of some invisible wound. As much as she wanted to be there for him, he needed someone who would be there until the end. Someone sweet and comforting and reminded him of home.

She might not be able to save the world, but perhaps she could save him from _this._

As quietly as possible, she pulled the door closed.

When she doubled back, she found Tifa guiding the nauseous sailor the opposite way down the hall, sweat glistening on the poor man’s forehead. “Hey. I’ll take him.” Aerith said, a hand on her shoulder. “Can you check on the last door down the hall? There’s someone who needs to talk.”

Tifa frowned, passing the sailor’s arm to Aerith. “To me?”

Aerith nodded encouragingly. “I think so.”

Aerith focused her attention on casting Esuna on the poor sailor, ignoring the way her chest tightened as Tifa’s steps brought her closer and closer to where Aerith so longed to be.

* * *

In all, there were fifteen survivors—enough to run the ship, but barely. Barret found the first mate—whose life had been spared by the fact that he had passed out, drunk as a skunk, in the cargo hold—and the two men managed to send out an SOS. They could only hope that they’d get a response, or it was going to be a very long journey to the continent.

Even though it was long past midnight, Aerith tossed and turned in her cot. She couldn’t shake the images that lingered when she closed her eyes.

That’s how she found herself in the mechanical room, one of the few rooms that had been spared from Sephiroth’s touch. It was hot—so hot, a film of sweat appeared on her body the moment she crossed the threshold—but the unrelenting rattle of machinery kept the thunderous silence at bay. That suited her just fine.

She settled into a corner farthest from the boilers, which kept the engines running, and where she was certain she wouldn’t inadvertently break something and strand them in the middle of the ocean. She stripped off her jacket and curled herself on top of it, a meagre cushion against the concrete but it was something. The moment she leaned against the wall, she realized how fucked up she was. She was starving, but not even a plate of her Elmyra’s fried chicken could entice her to eat. She was exhausted but there was no sleeping. Not with the threat of nightmares on the other side. Not with her mind racing with the thought of Sephiroth, the taunting glint in his eye, and the scattered memories of her other life, foreign yet familiar.

She didn’t know how long she sat there for, eyes closed but awake, the chugging of the water through the pipes the only salve against herself.

Eventually as she opened her eyes, her heart nearly leapt out of her chest at the sight of Cloud kneeling across from her, his blond hair matted from the steam. She blinked rapidly, half expecting him to be a dream.

“Hey,” he said, his gaze curious and his voice unexpectedly gruff.

“Hey,” she croaked.

“What are you doing here?”

As Aerith sat up, she looked down herself and nearly groaned. With her boots kicked off haphazardly, legs splayed like a ragdoll, and body sweatier than a sauna, she wouldn’t be surprised if there was drool running down her chin to complete the embarrassment. She rubbed her chin to check, hoping it’d seem like she was thinking. “Sleeping, I guess. You?”

“It’s quiet here,” Cloud said, “I could use some quiet.”

Aerith looked at him, surprised again. It was the very opposite of quiet. Unless he was running from the same thing she was.

“Can I sit?” He asked.

She moved aside, giving him room. There wasn’t much space, so they sat pressed together, hip-to-hip. He was solid and sturdy and although they were both filthy from everything that had happened, he smelled of clean soap and spearmint.

It took her a few minutes to realize that he wasn’t wearing his gloves, gauntlets or pauldrons. Or his sword. She’d never seen him without it. He looked normal, now, no different than any other man that might walk Midgar. She blinked with the tingle of his bare arm brushing against hers. He felt normal too.

The SOLDIER reputation was legendary: they traded sanity for power and left only mayhem and destruction in their wake. The glow of mako in his eyes would never fade, but suddenly in the steaming engine room, Cloud seemed to be just a man, something that Zack in all the time she had known and loved him, had never been. Zack had always been larger than life, like the gallant hero from a movie. Even in the beginning, in the throes of puppy love, she never could find a place for herself in his story. She understood why, now. She didn’t need a hero. She didn’t _want_ a hero. She just wanted someone to be there for her.

Before she could think better of it, she leaned her cheek against his left shoulder where his pauldron should have been. His skin was soft but the muscles beneath were firm and taut. Steady. He started at her touch but didn’t pull away. “Trouble sleeping?” She asked, a little dazed.

“Something like that,” was his reply. He shifted towards her, leaned his head on hers. She sighed in relief when he did, closing her eyes and sinking deeper into him. 

He was silent for a while. And then asked, “You okay?”

Aerith exhaled audibly, her breath so heavy it felt like it was being pulled out of her. “No. No, I’m not. Are you?”

Cloud grunted, “No.”

She nodded and, when his left hand came to rest on her knees, she slipped her hands around his elbow and squeezed it comfortingly. If she curled closer to him in the process, he didn’t seem to mind.

There was a gentleness in his eyes when he tilted his head down to meet her gaze. Like he was seeing _her_. The parts of her she’d hidden deep for so long. It should’ve made her uncomfortable. She’d always thought it would be like walking into a jail cell. Somehow, with Cloud, it was like walking out of one. It was strange. As bad as the night had been, it was better now that he’d found her.

“Tell me something,” she said.

“What?”

“Anything.”

“Anything?” He asked.

“Anything.”

“Um…I’ve been on a boat only twice before this.”

“And?” she prodded.

“And…I think I hate it. It makes me sick.”

She turned to him in surprise. “You get seasick?”

He nodded. “I threw up twice already.”

“I had no idea!” She poked him in the ribs. “How sneaky, hiding it from us.”

“I’m not the only one with secrets,” he replied, _almost_ indifferent.

She eyed him with suspicion. “Takes one to know one.”

He merely smirked. “Your turn.”

She didn’t need to think very hard. “I’ve never been on a boat before. Well, that I can remember anyway. And I really like it. The ocean is…so _big_. It makes you realize how small you are. We’re really all just little fish, if you think about it. It’s amazing. Scary but amazing.”

“I never thought about it like that before,” he said with a little frown, as if he was solving a puzzle. He had an earnestness that was _so_ adorable. She couldn’t help her smile.

They sat for a while in an easy silence, her head on his shoulder and his hand in her lap. It was the most anchored she’d felt since Kalm. She just wanted to soak in it.

In moments like this, she couldn’t help second-guessing herself. Was it a mistake to keep him at arms’ length when having him here felt so _good_? She just wanted to do the right thing, if only she knew what it was.

“Aerith. Will you tell me what’s bothering you?” He murmured into her hair.

She froze, panicking. She wasn’t going there—not today, not now, hopefully not ever. “Will you go first?” She blurted out.

He thought for a while before saying, “You know that feeling where you’ve lost something, and you just can’t seem to find it? You’ve looked everywhere but it’s gone.” Aerith nodded. “Sephiroth…he says things that I feel like I should recognize, things that I _should_ know. But there’s a gap in my memories. Something…is missing.”

“Like…?”

“Like what he said to you, ‘Time is running out.’ What did that mean? Somehow, I feel like I should know.”

“I don’t know. He _is_ toying with us,” she offered, quickly.

He shook his head. “It’s more than that. There are other things too. And…if I can’t remember, I won’t be ready for him.”

Aerith mulled his words. From the moment they’d met, he’d reminded her so much of Zack. Too much to be a mere coincidence. She could feel it in the flow of the planet too, the way the Lifestream changed direction around him. And now, his incredible gut instincts. Something was not quite right—but she was certain that whatever it was, it would resolve itself.

Because what she _could_ see of him amazed her. He was a sturdy flower pushing towards the sun, struggling to break through the cracks in the concrete. Prickly yet soft, tough yet brittle, bitter and sweet. The kind of flower that would return year after year, no matter the drought or the cold or the fire.

“It’s true. We can’t underestimate Sephiroth. He knows too much. He…frightens me,” she admitted shyly, feeling bare under Cloud’s gaze. But because she felt like she was on the cusp of something important for the both of them, she continued on. “But that doesn’t mean that we’re going to fail. We’re both still sitting here, together. So, there’s still hope.”

Her words seemed to move him. The trepidation in his eyes transformed into something more solid, more certain.

“Cloud, missing pieces of your past don’t change who you are. You’re…” She hesitated then amended, “I’ve seen what you can do. And the fact that I’m here and not locked away in Shinra Tower is proof of that. You came for me when no one else could.” She smiled. “You have everything you need, right now.”

The expressions that flitted across his face were mysteries that she longed to read. He swallowed hard and then his left hand found hers, fingers intertwining. Aerith inhaled sharply at his touch. It was much gentler than she imagined—a contrast with his skin which was calloused and rough from combat.

“I’m…starting to think so too,” he said softly, his thumb tracing the outline of hers, making her shiver despite the heat. “I have everything I need right here.” When his gaze slipped down to her lips, time seemed to slow. He leaned towards her with a singular focus, with an intensity that made her sweat, made her wonder how good it would feel like to throw herself into the deep end.

She could also sense the panic bubbling in her chest. As much as she wanted it, there was no turning back. And she had no idea what lay beneath the surface.

Her panic truly kicked in when he was just a breath away. “I’m…glad,” she stuttered in bewilderment, putting as much distance between as she could given that she was crammed into a corner. He pulled back, alarmed.

Her mouth moved to speak again but nothing came out in the whirlwind of her thoughts. There were so many things that she wanted to say, things that made her heart flutter—but they were selfish things. Things that would bring him closer to her. Things that a normal woman who was falling in love would say.

But she was not a normal woman this time around. What Sephiroth said to her…he knew something, something she didn’t. And that scared her.

After what felt like an eternity, she exhaled and said, “I’m glad I could help. As _friends,_ we’re in this together. Me, you, Tifa, Barret, Red. _All_ of us.”

Cloud turned his head away, his expression hidden from her, but he flexed his left hand restlessly. When he turned back, there was fire in his eyes. “Is that all we are? _Friends_?”

Aerith hesitated, struck by his fierceness. But she plowed ahead, burying her clammy hands into her lap. “Of course,” she lied. “That’s what we’ll always be.” It surprised her; how hard it was to lie to him.

“We both know you don’t mean that,” he growled. He reached out as if to touch her again, as if it were some base instinct driving him before he caught himself with a shake. His gaze softened. “Since Kalm, you’ve been…different. What’s changed?”

There he went, fighting for her again. It was everything she never knew she wanted. It made her want to wrap her arms around him and bury her face into his neck and never let go.

Instead, she said, “You remind me so much of my first love, you know. Same rank. Same weapon. I thought I could move on…I wanted to, Cloud. I wanted…” _I wanted this timeline to be different._ “But I can’t. I’m still in love with him. I’m sorry. I really am.” She watched how each word drove a nail into him, like he was trying to catch his breath but couldn’t.

Aerith held her breath and her composure with everything she had. _It’s the right thing to do. You're saving him. You’re protecting him,_ she told herself as Cloud searched her expression desperately. She’d thought lying would be the hardest part; she was wrong. She forced herself to hold his gaze as his hope and determination faded from his face like the slow flickering death of a flame. And then it went blank. It was the vacant look of a stranger as their gaze passed over you. It was a punishment that she deserved every minute of it.

“I’m sorry too,” he said, finally.

It wasn’t until he left her that she dropped her head into her hands with a gasp. Tears prickled at her eyes but never did come.

This would hurt him, but it would be short-lived at least. Better now than later; better a paper cut than a mortal blow.

The same couldn’t be said for her. The ache in her chest started the day she woke up with those memories in her head and became more excruciating with every moment she spent with him. Like the ticking of a clock until she could hardly breathe for the pain.

But it was okay, she’d told herself, because no one died from a broken heart.

Although…maybe she was wrong about that too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and for all the love <3


	3. Gold Saucer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The feedback I've received for this little story has been incredible. I'm so grateful for every reader, every kudos and every comment. This fandom is so welcoming and I'm happy to be a part of it!

Aerith had a feeling that her 12-year old self would’ve loved Gold Saucer. The whimsical costumed characters, the whizzing lights, the screams and laughter that echoed from the rides—it was a feast for the senses. It gave everything a heady quality—like she’d tossed back one of Tifa’s mixed drinks. The rides were thrilling, even after the fourth time. The minigames made her cheer, even if the machines creaked and groaned from age. The lights dazzled her, even if her head began to throb after a while.

Truth was, maybe she hadn’t grown up at all.

Her favorite part was the fireworks show in the evening, where everyone stopped in their tracks to watch, their stunned faces illuminated by the bursting flowers in the sky. The awe, the hope, the joy, the excitement—she could feel it in the air. To be a part of that shared feeling was powerful. Like she was a part of something.

As the crowd dispersed, kids and couples chattering in excitement from the show, her mind wandered to that peculiar feeling of belonging.

It was new to her, this idea of having friends. Tseng, Reno, and Rude didn’t quite count. They were _her_ professional bad guys, to the point that she almost looked forward to when they inevitably popped out of the shadows. But Shinra had always loomed over them—if they were given a choice, she knew that it wouldn’t be her. They’d feel bad about it, but they’d do their job.

When it came to Cloud, Tifa, Barret, and Red, she was grateful to call them her friends. Because they _had_ chosen her, against all odds. And that meant something to her—more than they’d ever know. But if there was one thing that living in the slums taught her, it was that every friendship had its price. And she had a strange feeling that she would soon outlive her usefulness to them.

Still, she couldn’t help missing them. She hoped Barret was alright. He had run off agitated after passing through North Corel, after seeing a reminder of his past. She knew he could take care of himself but still… she wished there was something she could do to help. He supported all of them unfailingly and yet when he needed it, they were unable to offer him the same in return.

Meanwhile, Red was camped outside the park. The sheer spectacle had overwhelmed his keen senses but they wouldn’t be here long. This was only a brief reprieve before they continued on to Cosmo Canyon, where, in the other timeline, a Professor Bugenhagen had had so many answers about the planet.

Cloud and Tifa were presumably on a date. They were spending much more time together than ever before. She was happy for them, of course. But she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t miss how it was before. The easy exchanges, the teasing, the camaraderie. Something had changed after they walked off the cargo ship. Subtle, but there. Cloud was aloof and brooding, at times unable to even be in the same room with her. And Tifa kept shooting her guilty looks, as if she was worried about what Aerith thought of them.

Aerith bore it with an unflinching smile. After all, it was the punishment she deserved.

It was past midnight now and the families had all but disappeared. Those that remained dragged their crying kids behind them, looking frazzled. In their absence, there was a quiet that settled on the park, a dreaminess that the remaining couples and larger groups soaked up, their boisterous laughs echoing. So joyful and carefree. For a while, Aerith lingered against her better judgment, wanting to capture a piece of that.

That’s where she was, a lone figure sitting on a bench in the emptying Event Square, absently munching on her buttery popcorn, when she heard it. It was familiar and undeniable; until she heard it, she didn’t realize how much she missed it.

The call of the planet.

She didn’t know why, but since they’d left Midgar, the planet had gone silent, as if it was holding its breath. She’d meditated and called to it every night, searching for guidance, waiting for _something._

Tseng and Hojo had always referred to it as “the voices.” But that didn’t do it justice. It wasn’t something to be heard, it was _experienced_. The Lifestream poured into her as if she stood at the base of a raging waterfall. She gasped as the richness of wet moss filled her nostrils and roaring water pressed against her ear drums. In the intersection of forest, rock, frozen tundra, and sea stood an empty city carved out of coral. An underground lake, still and untouched. A crystal altar shimmering like glass. Her bones trembled at how familiar it was although the memory had long vanished. And her mouth, full of the taste of iron.

_Hear us. Find your own path. Listen and you will find your way._

And then she was enveloped in warmth like a blanket wrapped snug around her shoulders. An embrace. _Mom._

_Our voices grow weak but you are not alone. Listen and you will find your way. Don’t lose hope._

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to commit her presence to memory.

Like falling backwards into a dream, she awoke with a jolt.

Dazzling lights. The smell of popcorn. The clatter of a rollercoaster. The hum of voices, laughter.

She blinked sluggishly; her bag of popcorn crumpled in her hand. With unsteady, rasping breath and she gave herself a shake. The city carved out of coral and its exact location were seared into her body. She knew its direction as if it were tied to her like a puppet string—and its pull was unrelenting.

_Find your own path._

She knew what she had to do.

* * *

Everything she needed for the journey was stowed into her rucksack. She could leave now if she wanted to—and she probably should. There was no sleep to be had tonight. She shivered uncontrollably, cold even though there was nothing wrong with the temperature. She might as well get an early start to her journey. Her pack was by the door. All she had to do was pick it up and walk out.

Tifa hadn’t yet returned for the night. It would be a clean getaway. No messy questions.

And yet…

She didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.

The vision. _The Forgotten City._ It was where she died. They were so vivid now, the memories. She may not have lived through them, but her body had. The white-hot sear of Sephiroth’s blade as it tore through her abdomen, the inhuman sound as it ripped open her clothes and flesh, her body shuddering at the impact, Cloud’s horrified face fading to white.

And she was going back there. Alone.

It was a leap of faith. She had to believe that things were different. Different time, different Aerith, definitely different Sephiroth. She had to believe that she would get the answers she needed. She had to believe Ifalna wouldn’t send her back there. She had to believe she was worth more to the planet than just a lamb to be sacrificed.

And if she was wrong? 

She could wait up a little longer. Fifteen more minutes. Whatever Cloud and Tifa were doing together… Aerith couldn’t wait all night. But she could wait fifteen minutes.

She heard the moaning shuffle from the hallway. Perturbed, she tip-toed to the door and peered into the hall through the peephole.

Two figures staggered down the hall. For a moment, they looked as if they were drunk, swaying from side to side, before she realized—as a distressed moan echoed through the door—no, Tifa was hurt.

Aerith flipped the deadbolt and yanked the door aside. Her stomach dropped. Tifa limped slowly, clutching Cloud’s shoulder, a jagged gash extending the length of her shin. It was partially healed so it wasn’t gushing blood, but in the garish hallway lighting it looked down to the bone. Cloud’s arm snaked around Tifa’s waist, holding her steady. Aerith ducked underneath Tifa’s arm to support her weight on the other side. “What happened?”

“Shooting in the Wonder Square. 6 people dead. Security thought we’d done it. We were outnumbered and barely got away.” Cloud said. “I healed what I could.” Tifa grunted in assent, sweaty forehead furrowed in pain.

Aerith instinctively scanned the hallway, half-expecting security personnel to appear. As if he read her mind, Cloud easily scooped Tifa into his arms and carried her into their room. 

Aerith tried her best not to dwell on the sight. Even though she’d done everything she could to push them together, it stung. _Focus_ , _dammit,_ she chided herself, locking the hotel door behind them and grabbing clean towels from the bathroom. She ran warm water over the towels and squeezed them out.

Worse yet, she couldn’t help but wonder how this would impact her plans. If security was searching for them, it wouldn’t take long for them to be tracked back here. Which meant… Aerith would have to slip out _much_ earlier than planned—almost immediately after healing Tifa, even. She’d be abandoning them, her friends, leaving them to be arrested or worse. But if she didn’t go…

As she shut the faucet, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Guilt hung over her like heavy veil. She headed back into the bedroom.

“Cloud…thank you,” Tifa said, quietly, intimately. Aerith froze when she overheard it, just out of sight of the doorway, her heart pounding. She heard the rustle of the feather mattress and the clanking of his armor as Cloud deposited Tifa on the bed. “For making good on your promise. You saved me today. I wouldn’t have made it back here without you.”

Aerith took a breath and peeked into the room. As he crouched in front of Tifa, his gloved hand lingered on her arm almost tenderly. That was something Aerith had always noticed from the beginning. He just couldn’t keep his hands off her.

“I always keep my promises,” he murmured.

Tifa just smiled, just caressed his cheek, warm eyes glittering, an echo of the way Aerith had in that dream so long ago. Except that it was so casual. So relaxed. Like it wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last. It was a stab through her heart.

Aerith didn’t think twice; she stomped through the doorway loudly, hurriedly, smiling at the both of them as if she could push out the constriction in her chest.

Tifa’s ensuing blush and the way they jumped apart told Aerith everything she needed to know.

It was ridiculous. This was what she wanted. To give her friends a push, to give them a shot at happiness without the shadow of her death over them. Her plan was _working._

But she hadn’t planned for it to hurt so much, for the damage to be so visceral, to run so deep. As she knelt to clean her friend’s wound, she realized why.

Aerith had gone and fallen in love. 

Like the fool she was.

* * *

“You going to be okay?”

Aerith looked up as she wrapped Tifa’s leg in gauze, her friend dozing peacefully with the help of the cheap drugstore painkillers she always carried in her pack. Cloud watched her from the other side of the bed, as far away from her as he could get, standing with his hands folded across his chest. “Tired, but I’ll be fine,” she responded with a smile. She was exhausted. “I’m just glad she’ll be okay.”

Cloud nodded but his eyes stayed on her.

Aerith pretended not to notice, finishing off the bandage and then pulling Tifa’s boots off her feet. “I’ll take it from here—you must be exhausted.”

“Not really.”

She smiled to herself; she knew what that really meant. “We’ll have to have an early start, you know.”

“A hotel this big, it’ll take them at least a few hours to comb through all the security footage.”

“So you should rest while you can.”

Cloud didn’t budge. His eyes darted to the floor, as if he was suddenly uncertain. “Aerith…”

Her stomach dropped at his tone, serious and soft. He was going to talk about Tifa. And she couldn’t, not when this was the last time she might ever see him.

She smiled harder, as if she could keep it from slipping with willpower alone. “Seriously, time for bed, Mister,” she said, tipping her head towards the door. “Even SOLDIERs need sleep.”

His mouth opened to protest.

“No ‘buts’. C’mon, Cloud.” She made her way to the door, hand at the ready on the knob. “We’ll talk soon,” she reassured, hoping it would be true.

Cloud considered it for a few long moments and then nodded. She pulled the door open for him and he walked through reluctantly, eyes glued to her as if he was trying to figure out what she was thinking.

He turned back to her, leaning against the hallway doorframe. “Tomorrow. We have to talk tomorrow.”

Aerith blinked, momentarily surprised. It hurt hearing it from him, knowing that it was impossible. Knowing that tomorrow she’d be on her way to the Forgotten City, miles away from him. Miles away from all of them. It was funny; she’d waited up late to say goodbye, and now that she was here, she was speechless. What could she say to him that wouldn’t make it worse? What could she do when all she wanted was to reach out and touch him one last time?

Instead, she smiled sadly. “Good night, Cloud.”

She saw him withdraw, saw the light in his eyes shutter. “Good night, Aerith.”

And then she closed the door on him slowly, as if her body fought her, as if her eyes wanted to stay locked on him. He stared back, unwaveringly. It was only when the door clicked closed that she released the breath she was holding, leaning her forehead against the cool wood frame, suddenly exhausted. 

She stayed there for a few minutes, trying to catch her breath, until she heard the creaking of Cloud’s armor as he returned to his room.

_Time to go._

After washing up and leaving a few gil on her bedside table for the poor housekeeper who would have to deal with the bloody towels, she allowed herself a little rest. She sat beside Tifa and listened to her friend’s low snores. She’d gotten so used to her snoring after being roommates that she found herself already missing it.

“I’ll miss you,” Aerith said aloud, the words catching in her throat. “But I just want you to be happy.”

Tifa stirred, her eyes still closed but she smiled as if she could hear her. “I want you…to be happy too,” she said sleepily, before turning over and snoring again.

Aerith stared at the other woman. If only life was that simple. If only what Aerith wanted wouldn’t hurt Tifa. Or Cloud. If only she could stay…

No, that line of thinking hurt too much. Because even if she could stay, would they want her to? If they had to choose between her or the world?

It was an impossible choice. And she would never ask them to make it.

No, it was for the best that she was leaving, better for everyone involved. It would be a graceful exit; a convenient one for them and for her. And then she would step into the role that fate had prepared for her—a role that as much as she feared it, deep down, she’d always known it was hers. And she _would_ play her part to perfection. After all, she’d already done it once before, to great success.

Sacrifice.


	4. The North

The Forgotten City was to the north, embedded deep into the permafrost. She’d done her best to keep to herself on the journey, a hard task for a young woman travelling alone even under the best of times, but she was drawn to the creaky taverns, to hear the pulse of the towns, small as they were, and maybe to feel a sense of camaraderie, even if it wasn’t hers.

The old stories reminded her of the tales her mother used to tell her of the Cetra, ones that were far too mystical and magical to be real, surely. Some folk spoke of how it had been an ancient witch—or the planet’s protectors—no, Shiva herself—who had frozen their lands, to staunch a wound that would’ve destroyed the planet. They concluded those stories with a roaring laugh into their ales, as if that was all they were, just stories.

Aerith—who remembered Ifalna’s words, who could feel Sephiroth’s taint from Northern Crater miles away—left behind a generous tip for each story. The truth needed to be heard. Even if few could recognize it for what it was.

The stories dwindled the further north she travelled. The towns grew smaller, the weather colder, the folk less friendly as if they too could sense what the planet tried so desperately to keep at bay. Bone Village was the last town before the Forgotten City, although it was more of semi-permanent dig site than anything. Good for fossil excavations and the occasional mining operation and little else. 

She was nearly there, just needed to cross the strait. She hired a little fishing boat which was guided by a creepy balding man with soot on his cheek. Her intuition was proven right when he drew his knife on her shortly after setting sail. Thankfully, the man was just greedy.

Despite a few superficial cuts, she managed to hold him off with her spells, tie him up and pilot the boat the rest of the way. By the time she trudged into town, it was well past nightfall, and she was utterly exhausted.

The innkeeper took one look at her and scowled. She was portly, the kind of woman whose only exercise was carrying bags of flour and potatoes from the market. With the way she gripped the door, Aerith fully expected her to slam it in her nose. To her surprise, the woman stepped aside.

“Don’t recognize your face at all. No family up here, eh? Girl like you shouldn’t be travelling these roads on your own.”

“My brother will join me in a few days,” she replied tersely, rooted on the steps, ready to pull out her staff.

The woman chuckled, wiping her hands on her black apron faded grey. “Ay—I hear you, girl. You got nothing to fear from me. I got a granddaughter me-self around your age down in Junon. Anyone who means you harm will have to go through me, I promise you.”

She turned her back to her as she limped down the hall. “Warm up by the fire. Give me some time to turn over the room for you,” she called. Before turning out of sight, she nodded at her appraisingly, her voice rumbling. “I reckon you could use a warm meal too.”

Aerith assessed the woman, the inn, and the town quickly, and then went with her gut. She stepped in, closed the door, and turned the lock, sighing in relief as she plopped down near the roaring hearth. 

The innkeeper was a woman of her word; she kept her safe, warm, and fed for the night.

In the morning, she found Serena toiling in the kitchen, a greyed washcloth thrown haphazardly over her shoulder. She nodded to her as Aerith walked in, a sheen of sweat on her forehead from the heat of the fire, her greyed hair pulled into a bun.

Aerith took her first good look at the place, and she was glad she trusted her gut. Sure, there were grease stains on the ceiling and the faded wallpaper curled at the edges and perhaps the carpet was stained with decades of ash from the fireplace, but the place wasn’t just an inn. It was a home, one that had withstood the test of time.

Aerith took a seat at the little circular table by the window. The morning sun streamed in stubbornly through the cloudy window casting a warmth on her face. She settled in with a smile—the food smelled divine, of fresh eggs and sausage and homemade pancakes.

She almost cried taking her first bite of the pancakes. It reminded her so much of Elmyra’s, fluffy and tender with a pat of butter on top. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine waking to the gentle rumble of the waterfall and the smell of fresh lilies.

“It’s really good,” she said, her voice wavering just a little, holding her fork eagerly with both hands. She met Serena’s gaze firmly. “Delicious.”

Serena snorted to herself from across the counter, tidying the kitchen with a clatter. “When’s the last time you been fed good, girl?”

Aerith’s smile was small. “Months. Not since I left home.”

The glint in the woman’s grey eyes softened, and she flicked her attention to Aerith’s half-eaten plate. “Well, eat up. There’s more where that came from. I’ll pack what I can for you too. I’m guessing you’re leaving today.”

Aerith nodded between mouthfuls of sausage. “Yes, I’d appreciate it. It’ll be a long journey.”

“Long _and_ dangerous.”

“I can take care of myself,” Aerith replied defensively, thinking of the creepy fisherman she’d left drifting down the strait.

Serena’s eyes turned on her like dagger points. “People ain’t the danger, girl. Bone Village is the only town this far north. No, it’s the wilderness that’ll take you, if you’re not careful.” She turned off the tap pointedly. “Those your hiking boots?”

Aerith glanced down at her ratty combat boots despite herself.

Serena added, “They’re not going to last a week in the backcountry. It rains hard this time of year and it still gets damn cold at night.”

Aerith met her gaze directly, annoyed from the woman’s tone and just barely keeping her composure. “Thanks for the warning. I didn’t have time to take much before I had to go.”

Serena studied her, pensive. “Left in a hurry, did you?”

“I did… I had to get away,” Aerith said distractedly. She’d left Tifa snoring on the bed, slipping her room key under Cloud’s door just in case Tifa needed to be checked on. She had been afraid to even breathe, knowing Cloud was a particularly light sleeper. In hindsight, it was foolish. Would one more day have made that much of a difference?

At last, the older woman tossed her kitchen towel down onto the countertop, as if she’d made up her mind. “Tell you what, I still have my daughter’s old hiking gear packed away upstairs. Let’s see if we can find anything that fits you.”

And like that, Serena hurried down the hallway, surprisingly spry, her grey-streaked bun bobbing until she disappeared behind the stairs.

After polishing off her breakfast, Aerith found Serena elbow-deep in boxes in a storage room on the second floor. It smelled musty with age and mothballs. The woman shrugged. “This may take a while. Somehow my daughter’s stuff got mixed in with my husband’s…but between the two of ‘em I think we can find something that fits you.”

Aerith tried on everything that Serena tossed at her—but most didn’t fit, either child-sized or giant-sized.

“Your husband’s a big guy, huh?” Aerith said, folding an enormous shirt at least three times her size back into a box.

Serena smiled, pressing the garment she held to her chest. “He w _as._ The shoulders on him,” she sighed dreamily. Even though the woman’s hair was nearly fully grey, she seemed like a teenager again, beaming love out of every pore. “Big man with a big ol’ heart. He built this house with his hands—cut the lumber himself and everything. Used to just heft the trees over his shoulder and carry ‘em home. He always said that he was just the muscle and I was the brains—but that wasn’t true. He was whip smart, just not book smart.” Then sadness, deep sadness. “He passed a few years ago; bad bout of pneumonia. All that muscle and in the end, it was his lungs that gave out.”

“I’m so sorry, Serena.” It pained her to think of living in this house day after day, a constant reminder of love and loss, of the life she once had. Aerith didn’t know if she could do it.

“You know, everyone seems to say that.” The older woman smiled wryly as if reading her mind. “But don’t be. I miss him but at least I had him for 25 years. He gave me a safe home, a father for my daughter, a livelihood—a good life. I wouldn’t trade that for the world, not even to have him back with me again.”

“Really?”

Serena didn’t hear her as she bent over to dig through a box. Her voice was muffled as she continued on, “Even if all I have is memories, it was worth it. Never any use thinking on what could’ve been else you start missing out on the things you do have.”

Aerith cleared her throat, suddenly feeling a rush of emotion. It took her aback—she didn’t know what to make of it. “I’ll…remember that.”

By the end, they managed to find a mismatched outfit for her: some warm breeches, a heavy sweater, and a fuzzy brown jacket that she could layer on top of her leather one. Nothing waterproof and no hiking boots—but she wasn’t going to complain. They managed to also find some old camping gear. Aerith took it all gratefully.

“You’re too generous,” Aerith exclaimed, a little overwhelmed as she knelt on the floor stuffing the gear into a pack. “I don’t know how I can repay you.” Perhaps it was the food and the rough night she’d had, but she suddenly felt like a little girl, and when she looked at the innkeeper, she saw Elmyra.

Serena set aside whatever she was holding, her expression softening. “How about some advice from an old crow like me? Whatever you’re running from...just remember, it’s easy to run, but the hard part is figuring out when to stand your ground and fight.”

Aerith frowned questioningly.

“Only two reasons you end up in a place like this. You were born here and got family or you’re running from something, maybe someone.”

Aerith blinked into her lap, her brain processing it all sluggishly, as if she were running in sand. She had thought that she was doing the right thing by leaving the group, that she was taking charge of her own destiny, searching for answers, searching for _something_. She had never stopped to consider that along the way, maybe the journey had become less about seeking and more about fleeing.

“Your business is your own, of course,” Serena added.

“How do you know when to do it? To stand your ground?”

“That’s a real good question.” Serena smiled, her eyes twinkling as she resumed her sorting. “For me, it was when I knew I wouldn’t have to do it alone.”

Aerith shook her head. “I’m not sure I know what that even feels like anymore.”

“Kid, that’s what makes it so hard.”

* * *

Leaving Serena’s homestead for the cold and empty road was a shock to the system. It was as chilly and damp as the innkeeper had promised. Even worse, there was no road, no trail in the direction the phantom string pulled at her. Just wilderness. Aerith had to hike through spiny brush and cross rambling streams, soaking her boots. Futilely, she wrung out her socks and boot soles before continuing, her feet squelching with each step.

She tried to track her path with her map and compass, but it too seemed pointless. There was no guarantee that there would be a return trip anyway. More than likely her map would be lost and forgotten, just like the rest of the Cetra.

Aerith felt the cold even huddled in her tent and bedroll. She couldn’t stop shivering as the cold seeped into her bones from the frozen ground below, barring her from sleep.

It was the silence in the night that unnerved her the most though. It hammered home the realization that she was alone. Truly and utterly alone.

She stared up at the midnight sky, thoughts clattering in her head until her body gave out and dragged her into a fitful sleep. In hindsight, it shouldn’t have surprised her that that would’ve been the night that she dreamed of Cloud again.

She found herself sitting on the edge of a cliff, her feet dangling over the edge. The remains of a camp were scattered behind her, hidden in the dense forest. Wherever Cloud and the team were, it seemed they were also roughing it. They must’ve escaped Gold Saucer in one piece—thank goodness. It had only been one week since she’d left them in the middle of the night, but it felt like much longer.

There was nothing but the chirping and pitter-patter of the forest so Aerith closed her eyes to soak up the peace and the sun. There was no doubt that she was dreaming. Her dress hem was spotless as if freshly laundered. It had been a long time since it looked like that. She had ruined her hem the first night fleeing from Midgar and had never been able to remove the stains, no matter how hard she tried.

“Aerith.” Cloud’s voice was concerned and relieved, sharp and delicate all at once. It warmed her all over, like the first gulp of coffee in the morning.

“Hey,” she said, turning from her seat to smile at him. He looked the same as always—perhaps a little dark under his eyes, his face a little more withdrawn. But just as beautiful as the last time she’d seen him. His soft lips parted in surprise.

_Oh_ , how she missed him. She wanted to hold that face in her hands. Instead of rushing to him like she wanted to, she forced herself to focus on the view.

It was breathtaking, mountain peaks scattered like the points of a crown, each one more beautiful than the last. Some cloaked in snow, others thorny and barren. The alpine forests were lush and mysterious in the fading sun, not unlike the view she’d fallen asleep to. She imagined that she was dreaming from the other side of those very same mountains. Not far, not really, and yet what lay between them seemed insurmountable.

“I’m dreaming…but you’re not just a dream. Are you?” He drew closer, his steps gentle and slow, as if he worried he would spook her.

“It’s me.” Aerith smiled. “The Lifestream doesn’t speak to me much anymore, but it still does whatever it wants.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” He deadpanned. He sat next to her, one foot propped up on the ledge, the other hanging, brushing her shoulder as he settled. He watched her intently, head tilted to see her face. “What about before? When Shinra took you?”

She smiled again at the thought. “It brought me to you.” He blinked, brow furrowing. Then she teased, “I’m surprised you waited so long to ask.”

She could see the gears in his head turning. “I—I thought…it was just a dream. It seemed impossible.” His voice was soft and awed as he added, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” she said. The journey had taken its toll. But being here with Cloud was like catching her breath.

“Then why did you leave?” There was a note of bitterness in his voice.

“It’s hard to explain. I guess…it was time to do something different. I don’t want to play Sephiroth’s games anymore. Time to do something he won’t expect. Maybe I’ll catch _him_ off guard.”

“What if he finds you? You’re alone.”

“I can take him,” she said with a grin. When he didn’t return it, her grip faltered on the bravado. “He might find me,” she admitted, rubbing her stomach absently, “But it’s worth the risk. I’m going to the Forgotten City, where the Cetra used to live. I’ll be able to hear the planet clearly there. And maybe…maybe I’ll know what to do next.”

“I would’ve come with you. You didn’t have to go by yourself.”

Aerith waved it off. “It’s easier this way.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Well, why don’t _you_ tell me how it is, then?”

He seemed to steel himself before he spoke. “Our talk. On the ship. Was it—?” He couldn’t meet her gaze, shyly, suddenly looking years younger. Seeing him so uncertain tugged at her heart. “Is that why you left?”

“What? Cloud, no,” she insisted. There was the feral part of her that wanted to protect him—didn’t want to hurt him, _ever_ , even though the last few times, she had done just that. And before she could think twice, “You made me want to stay.”

Her words dropped like a live grenade and they just stared at each other as it rolled between them.

She broke the gaze first, hastily. “It wasn’t you. Don’t think that.”

Cloud’s eyes didn’t waver from her. He seemed more determined now. “Explain it, then. I still don’t understand why you had to leave on your own.”

Aerith sighed, trying to find the right words. “It’s like I’m playing chess against someone who knows my every move before I make it. And I feel like I’m supposed to know how to play. But I don’t. It’s a game that’s so much bigger than me. And I’m just trying not to lose.” It was as if she was unknotting a piece of herself. A piece that she had kept hidden for as long as she could remember. “I feel…lost. And alone,” she whispered, flattening her trembling hands in her lap.

His voice was soft like velvet. “You’re not alone.”

She stared at him, stunned. His gaze pierced her, full of understanding and resolve. Did he know how long she’d waited to hear words like that? In an instant, she was a little girl again, waiting for a mother to return that never would. She pushed back at the tears that awaited her, shaking her head. “We all have to make sacrifices sometimes. I think—I know—this is mine.”

“You’re wrong,” he announced to the mountains, not unkindly but with a vehemence that made his view clear, “But it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.” He turned to her. “So why are you in my dreams?”

She smiled at him, even if he was forcing her into a corner. For so long, he played nonchalant, callous, unfeeling—to hide his big heart. But he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. Every time she thought she knew what to expect of him, he never failed to surprise her.

She thought about the days since she left Gold Saucer. How lonely she’d felt even surrounded by tavern folk. How the Lifestream seemed to feel different the further she went. Like it was waiting to reclaim her.

“I used to dream about leaving Midgar. Especially as a kid, growing up in Shinra Tower. I’d look at the horizon and dream of what lay beyond. At some point, I stopped looking because I was afraid of what I’d see. No, that’s not quite it. I think I was afraid that I’d find out that what I thought was true: that it would be too much for me.

“I was wrong, in the end. Kalm, Junon, Costa del Sol, North Corel—they were more beautiful that I could’ve ever imagined. And if it weren’t for meeting you, I wouldn’t have any of those experiences. I’d still be in Sector 5, still scared, still wondering.

“I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I don’t want any regrets.

“I lied to you on the cargo ship, Cloud. I said…that I loved someone else. But that’s not true. I was trying to protect you. I just wanted to save you from heartbreak any way I could.”

Cloud stilled; his blue eyes furrowed in disbelief.

She continued hurriedly, unravelling under his stare. “I don’t know what you have with Tifa. I don’t want to get in the way of that and I won’t. I just couldn’t go on until I told you the truth.” She exhaled, at last, feeling like she’d run a marathon. “Life is too short, you know?.”

He blinked rapidly, baffled. Waiting for his response was agony.

“This isn’t just in my head?” He murmured. “You’re real?” And then he reached out, brushing aside her curls with a knuckle, then drawing his fingertips across her cheek. He seemed astonished that his hand hadn’t traveled straight through her. Quite frankly, so was she.

She didn’t dare breathe with the way her heart slammed inside her rib cage. She just stared at him wide-eyed, leaning forward into his touch. It was magnetic, the way she was drawn to him, and yet familiar, like tracing a path she’d walked along a hundred times before.

“B-but that night before I left. I heard you guys. I saw her—” Aerith mimicked touching his face, as if that said everything.

“You saw that?” Her heart plummeted as his hand wavered from her cheek, and he closed his eyes as if trying to summon the words. “Look, she was in a lot of pain that night—she wasn’t thinking. It’s not like that.”

“But I thought—”

“—that I moved on five minutes after trying to kiss you?” he asked wryly.

“You guys are always touching,” she insisted, “It’s like you can’t keep your hands off her.”

He scowled. “You’re seeing what you want to see. I’m not blind—you’ve been pushing us together.”

Aerith tilted her chin up at him. “That’s not true.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to lie anymore."

She sat back. This time she had no witty comeback. Just the feeling that he’d stolen the air from her lungs. She scanned his face, searching for the truth she tried so hard to deny. And there it was, boldly, unapologetically. It rocked her. The way he looked at her. Like he was afraid she’d disappear.

His eyes darkened at the change in her expression. He cupped her chin, his thumb stroking her bottom lip. “Aerith,” he growled, and she closed her eyes at the way it made her hair stand on end. “From that day you gave me the flower, it’s only ever been you.”

She’d been so blind, hadn’t she? So blind and afraid. She wanted to laugh; she wanted to cry.

Finally, she whispered, “I think I’m the one dreaming.”

He stroked her cheek almost absently with the tiniest tug of his lips upwards. “Maybe. Is it a good dream?”

The last rays of sun waned behind the mountains, casting the peaks a vibrant orange. It wouldn’t be long now. Dawn approached in the waking world; she could feel it tugging at her, insistent and urgent. It couldn’t be ignored, just like the burden she carried.

Her smile faded. Each word was heavier than the last. “It is,” she said. _The best kind of dream._ “The kind you never want to wake up from, but you know you have to.”

Cloud searched her face with alarm. He was close now, just a breath away. “Stop running. Let me find you. Let me help.”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” It was a promise she meant, even if she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep it. “I’ll come back when it’s all over.”

It was like she’d struck him. He paled instantly. His jaw slackened; his pupils shrunk to pinpoints; his eyes were unfocused. His hand shook as it cupped her face.

“Cloud? Are you okay?” She’d never seen him like this. Not in all their travels, not after Sephiroth’s massacre, not after the horrors they’d witnessed in Hojo’s lab. She tightened her hold on him, trying to shake off what gripped him. “What’s wrong?”

He blinked rapidly and when his eyes refocused on her, they were filled with tears. “Aerith,” he whispered in relief. He shook his head as the tears ran tracks down his face. “Just—don’t go. Stay where you are. Let me find you.” He gripped her tightly at her elbows. It was the look of a drowning man. “Aerith, _please._ ”

Cloud— _crying_. It was unfathomable. Aerith didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t deny him anything, not in this state—nor could she lie to him. “I’ll be okay. I’ve come too far to turn back. I’ll reach the Forgotten City in a few more days.” She pressed a lingering kiss to his damp cheek, wishing she could kiss away all his tears, and then to the corner of his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m _so_ sorry. I wish we had more time,” she whispered. She wanted to heal this wound—but she didn’t know if she’d ever get the chance.

“No. _No._ ” His icy blue eyes met hers fiercely. “I’ll find you,” he growled, pressing his forehead to hers, arms tightening around her. “I will.”

For a moment, she closed her eyes, imprinting this moment into her memory. It was the kind she’d carry even when she returned to the Lifestream again, etched into her body and her soul.

“I love you,” he said hoarsely, stubborn to the last.

She smiled, something warm and sweet blooming in her chest. She understood it now, really and truly, even if it was too late. “I love you too.”

She awoke to the orange sunrise, clutching her heart, trying desperately to cling to that feeling. It faded with the dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These big clueless softies. Gah, I love them. 
> 
> This chapter was enormous (initially like 6000 words because I have no chill) so I split it up. In other news, the angst train is coming to an end—whoo hoo!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. The Pass

The rest of the days after leaving Serena’s inn passed in a blur. For someone who’d never camped on her own before, who had grown up in the metropolis that was Midgar, the learning curve was steep. She’d set up her campfire too close to her tarp on the first night, singeing it, and tore a small hole trying to set up her tent on the second. But it became clear that without Serena’s help, she would've been even more lost. She tried to picture herself as Serena had seen her that night—woefully under-dressed and under-prepared for the elements—and had to shake her head. She had been a fool for running straight here with little more than a plan.

Truth was, Aerith was lonely. The backcountry was deafeningly quiet with nothing but the wilderness to keep her company. The birds, the ground animals, and, a few unfriendly creatures. But there was nothing that could erase the weight in her stomach as it grew heavier with every step that took her closer to the Forgotten City. And most importantly, she realized, away from her friends. Serena’s inn had been a welcome reminder of home. But it also served to remind her of what she had willingly left behind.

Sometimes, she wondered what it would be like if she just turned around and trekked back to Bone Village. There was a part of her that was desperate for it. That wanted to find her friends, somehow. That wanted to walk away and never return. Maybe she could hide out in Midgar and open a little flower shop. Maybe she and Cloud could live a normal life and grow old together, without regrets.

But when she really thought about it—she saw them for the delusions they were. There was no way of turning back that didn’t feel like defeat and there was no way of finding her friends again. She wouldn’t be able to rest, not with Sephiroth’s taint growing in the Lifestream, and not with the unforgiving pull of the Forgotten City.

So, she chased the soreness as she hiked—pushing her body as hard as she could to distract herself. Her calves and thighs burned until she could barely feel them. She traced the new lines of muscle emerging from her thighs with a grim satisfaction. Each night that she went to bed utterly exhausted, her legs like jelly, and her dreams blank, was a blessing. Just one foot in front of the other, taking her closer to her fate.

On the fourth day, she finally reached the pass overlooking the Forgotten City. It glinted like a pearl in the valley below. The ancient coral was carved into tree-like branches that rose towards the sky. The design was inimitable, inspired by things never seen with human eyes. It was chilling to think that the city was a relic of _her_ people, and yet it appeared to her eerie and alien.

She gazed at it for a while, trying and failing to see its beauty.

Aerith took shelter from the noon sun behind a boulder, devouring her rations even if they tasted like dust. Her muscles and joints creaked and snapped as she stretched out on a moss-covered rock, as if her body had finally reached its limit. _Just a little further_ , she told herself. _Almost there._

She closed her eyes. She tried to focus on the coolness of the shade, the rustle of the birds, the creaking of the trees. The wilderness seemed to come alive when she stood still. She remembered a time where that would’ve excited her. Where she would’ve listened for the stories of the forest.

And then she noticed it. The clicking of the rock underfoot, echoing against the pass. At first, she figured it was just another animal passing through. But the pace was too regular, and the rhythm wasn’t right. She opened her eyes cautiously as the steps drew closer and louder. And then, the clang of metal ringing through the pass.

She bolted upright, gripping the rock beneath her.

_Sephiroth._ Who else would come here, to the final resting place of the Cetra? A city for which there were no roads or maps. A place you could find only if you knew where to look. And there was only one other person on the planet who knew where to look.

She slowly got to her feet, pulling her staff free from her pack with trembling hands. She took a heavy breath and peeked over the boulder. She nearly dropped her staff.

Blond hair, eyes as blue as the sky, his trademark sword strapped to his back.

_How?_

He trudged towards her; eyes glued on the Forgotten City. And she soaked him in, eyes grazing over every inch of him. A red cowl around his neck, his waterproof cloak trailing behind him. He didn’t see her and from his pace, it was clear he had no intention of stopping. She could stay hidden and he’d never know she was there, if she wanted.

If she wanted.

She rushed around the boulder, lurching to a stop as their gazes met. She was rooted to the ground, just a scant meter away from him.

“How?” She exclaimed.

_How did you find me?_

_How is this possible?_

Flicking back his hooded cowl, his gaze took her in greedily, from her damp boots up to the yellow larch needles that had fallen into her hair, like a man staring at a mirage in the desert. “I…I took a chocobo.”

_Oh._ She’d never even thought of that.

“I stole him, actually. But it’s too cold for him up here.” He swallowed hard as he continued, “It’s… a long story.”

The only thought rattling in her head was how beautiful his voice was, after going so long without hearing it. “Tifa’s okay?”

Cloud nodded. “Not even a scar.”

“Barret?”

His lips quirked. “Met up with him in jail, actually. And Red is…Red.”

_In jail?_ She let it slide, exhaling. “Good.”

“They’re worried about you.”

She looked away from him, unable to speak. The gulf between them seemed vast and she didn’t know how to fill it.

I love you, he’d said in the dream, because he didn’t know better.

I love you too, she’d replied, even though she did.

He looked down at his hands, as if he wished they could speak for him instead. At last, his voice was low and soft, “I could feel it like an invisible string, pulling me to you.”

If the cold and the quiet of the last four days had chipped at her resolve, then his words utterly smashed it. She ran into his arms. She couldn’t stop herself even if she tried.

His hands encircled her waist, made her exhale a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She buried her head into his ribbed tunic, his strong chest, and breathed in his scent, all spearmint and leather,

“You came,” she murmured in awe.

“So little faith?” He teased, his warm breath tickling her ear.

Aerith smiled, pulling away a little to look at him. So beautiful, even with his hair blown wild from the wind. “I just can’t believe it.”

“When I found out you’d left…I had to find you. I just wasn’t sure I’d find you in time,” he said, his hands rubbing circles at her waist. It reminded of how desperately he called to her in the dream—something she still didn’t understand, no matter how much she thought about it.

After a moment’s hesitation, she asked, “What do you mean?”

He tore his gaze from her, looking at the ancient city in the distance. “It’s where I let you die,” he said, nodding to it.

She stiffened in shock, gooseflesh prickling across her skin.

He looked at her as if in a daze, his voice cracking as he explained, “When I woke up from your dream, I had memories that I never lived, from another life. A life where Sephiroth controlled me like a puppet and you bled out in my hands.”

To hear him say it aloud—she couldn’t help but wonder if this was a dream. What a dream it was to not be the only one to bear the burden anymore.

_How?_

He exhaled a jagged breath, suddenly looking depleted, his hands trembling as he held her. “‘I’ll come back when it’s all over,’ that’s what you told me.” he said, lifting his eyes to meet hers in horror. “And that was the last thing you said to me before you died. That last time I saw you. It must have triggered something.”

Aerith had no memory of it. Whether she lost it or never had it at all, she didn’t know, but it perturbed her to know that she was still unconsciously following the footsteps of fate. Could she even blame fate anymore? It was her own damned fault, her own blasted stubbornness.

Cloud studied her face intently. Finally, he stepped away from her. She felt the loss of his touch. “You knew this whole time,” Cloud accused, voice gruff with emotion, and she could only nod. “That’s why you ran.”

“I’m the only one who can stop him,” she explained. Part of her needed him to understand. “There’s no one else who can speak with the planet. I have to do this.”

“You don’t have to do anything. There’s got to be another way.”

“If it means saving the planet, isn’t it worth it?”

“Fuck the planet,” he hissed, the muscle in his jaw clenching. “Nothing’s worth your life.”

He made it sound so easy, as if she hadn’t spent months trying to figure out a way. “I’m just trying to protect you. All of you,” she insisted, raising her voice. “Marlene. Barret. Tifa. The kids at the Leaf House. I have to do everything in my power to help.”

“Are you helping Sephiroth too? Delivering yourself to him on a silver platter. Do you _want_ to be a martyr?”

“Cloud,” she admonished. “Do you think that’s what I want? That I want to be killed in the _most violent way possible_? That I wanted _any_ of this?” Traitorous tears pricked at her eyes, so she blinked them back stubbornly, her voice shaking as she continued, “I’m scared.” She twisted her hands in her clammy grip. “I’m scared I don’t have a choice.”

His voice softened. “You do. The future is always a blank page. You said that.”

“Did I?” It felt like a lifetime ago.

“You want to know the best way to help? Live. Stop running away. We really are stronger together.”

Something stirred within her. Like a delicate sprout uncurling from the soil. She shook her head in amazement. “I can’t believe this is coming from you, of all people.”

“Believe me, I know,” he said dryly. “But I met some people who showed me something different. Showed me what’s worth fighting for.”

She had to remind herself to keep breathing. “And if you’re wrong?”

“Then you can tell me ‘I told you so.’ But I _will_ protect you. I promise you that,” he said resolutely.

“There are some promises that you can’t keep,” she warned, rubbing her arms as if she could warm herself up. But she knew her shivers were from nerves, not the cold.

“Not this one.”

“How can you know?”

“I remember everything,” he said, bitterly. “You have no idea how it felt to let the water take you away. To live every day without you.” His stare pinned her in place until her face grew hot. “Because if you did, you’d know it the way I do.”

Aerith turned away from him then, unable to keep her composure. Was this what love was? Blind devotion? Even still, she hung onto every word. Cloud wasn’t a man of many words so when he spoke, he meant them. And she believed him, whole-heartedly. But she also wondered if he understood the cost of protecting her. His heart? His life? The world itself?

Cloud sighed, heavily, closing his eyes briefly in thought. “You’re not going to change your mind.”

“‘Afraid not.”

“If you have to do this, I’m coming with you.”

“What?” She swiveled to glare at him. “Cloud—no.” This was her fight.

“We’ll go first thing in the morning.” His tone was firm.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into!”

“And you do?”

She huffed. “I can take care of myself.”

“Never said you couldn’t,” he said matter-of-factly, “Just that I’m coming with you.”

She sighed, toeing the dusty rock beneath her feet. It was tearing her in two—the part of her that missed him and the part of her that wanted to do her duty. She was tired of running. She was tired of being lonely.

“There’s lots of sunlight left.” Aerith said at last, begrudgingly. “We could make it into the city by nightfall.”

Cloud’s entire body seemed to relax. “No. We’ll camp outside the city unless we have time to make sure it’s secure.”

She nodded. “Okay. But don’t make me regret it, Cloud.”

“Tomorrow,” he promised. “We’re going to do it right this time.”

She blinked at him, like the world had shifted beneath her feet in an instant.

She turned away, towards the edge of the lookout, taking a steadying breath. Standing from their position at the pass, they had full view of the path ahead--down the scree slope, into the thick of the forest. It stretched all the way to the edge of a river that curled around the city like a shield. “We can make camp near the river,” she pointed out, shading her eyes from the sun.

“Yes ma’am,” he responded behind her. She spun to face him before she realized how he must have stepped closer as they looked towards the city. As she bumped against him, he took her wrist to steady her. Probably because she had moved to the edge of the slope. Probably to make sure she didn’t fall.

Even so, his touch was electric. Every part of her was aware of him, waiting. She swallowed hard as she thought about the kisses she’d placed on his cheek in the dream, how it would be so easy to do it now, to press her lips on the freckles scattered over his cheekbone, and then again on his lips.

He stepped away first, averting his eyes but his hand hovered in place even as he released her. She could hardly look at him. “Excuse me,” he muttered simultaneously as her hurried, “Sorry, sorry.”

As she scrambled away to grab her pack off the ground, she could feel the throb of her blood in her ears. When she started her day, it had been one day closer to her death, one meal closer to her last. She didn’t have any hope that her fate had changed.

So why was she smiling?

* * *

Screes were dangerous—tiny rocks that collected as the titan peaks above eroded with the sun and the rain. One false step could trigger a cascade of skipping rocks below—a nasty fall if you lost your balance, or far worse if there was anyone below you. Cloud and Aerith descended the steep scree gingerly, cutting gradual switchbacks so they were less likely to lose their footing. Cloud took the lead, grumbling something about her safety, and even though she’d missed him, she most certainly did _not_ miss his overprotectiveness. 

He was quiet though, abnormally quiet, even for him. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it didn’t matter when her mind was a jumble anyway. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, tracing every curve of his face, every hard line of his body, half-expecting him to disappear, like maybe she’d finally gone crazy from isolation. He kept sending her little glances too when he thought she wasn’t looking (she was always looking), like maybe he’d missed her too, but more likely to make sure she was safe and not trying to kill him. 

Even still, she knew he could feel it too—he had to. The dream seemed to hover between them, filling the gaps in their silence.

_It’s only ever been you._

_I love you._

The memory made her stomach flip flop. She cleared her throat, loudly, to push it away but also it drew his questioning look. _Ah shit._ “I, uh, still don’t understand how you caught up,” she said hastily.

He squared his shoulders in front of him, as if he was preparing for battle. “We were arrested by the police in Gold Saucer pretty much after we realized you’d left. Their accusations were bullshit, of course, but that didn’t matter to them. It took us a couple of days to come up with a plan to break out. They found out about it, somehow. I was the only one who escaped.” His head was turned away from her, but she could sense the guilt in him, how he restlessly flexed his hand. “I tried to go back for the others but…they told me to find you. They said they’d find a way out and catch up. I left them a trail but…”

“If they said they would, they will,” she reassured. She hadn’t expected it—that he had already been on his way to find her when she dreamed of him.

His look was long and inscrutable. “And you already had a three-day head start,” he muttered.

She pointedly changed the subject. “So, where’d you get the chocobo?” It burned her that she hadn’t thought of it first. If she had, she’d already be there, in the underground temple, and her fate would be out of her hands. A day ago, it would’ve been a blessing. But now… she was less certain.

“I found Steve on a farm just outside of North Corel.”

“Steve?” She couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s his name,” he said defensively. “I didn’t make it up.”

“Even if you did, it’s cute,” she crooned. “I want to meet him!”

He grunted in agreement. “I had to leave him with an innkeeper at Bone Village.”

“Oh, Serena?”

Cloud shrugged. “She didn’t tell me her name. Didn’t like me much. Kept asking me where I was going.”

“Well, she liked me plenty!” Aerith grinned. “She probably thought you were coming after me. She seemed to think I was running away from a bad relationship or something.”

“You didn’t bother to correct her?” He asked with a glare.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were actually coming!”

“She would’ve bludgeoned me with her frying pan if I hadn’t paid her a small fortune for Steve’s boarding. I shouldn’t have paid but Steve was exhausted. I…I think I pushed him too hard.”

“You slave driver,” she teased. “Hope you gave him a break or two, at least.”

He didn’t say anything.

She stopped in her tracks, blinking at him. “Wait—seriously?”

His expression was dark. “You said you were almost there, Aerith.”

She raised her hand to her chest automatically, as if she could protect herself from what his words did to her. He’d done so much for her. She’d left three days before him and somehow, he’d broken out of prison, crossed the continent, the strait, and intercepted her in the middle of nowhere. Even with a chocobo…. it was unimaginable.

But she didn’t need to imagine it. She stopped in her tracks, watching him navigate the slope. Now that she was looking for it, he was paler than usual with dark shadows beneath his eyes. He usually moved like dancer, smooth and elegant; instead, he was stiff, stumbling as the rocks shifted under him. He hid it well, but he was exhausted.

From her vantage point, she had a stunning view into the valley and of the nine peaks that cradled the Forgotten City, but all she could see was Cloud and what she’d done to him. Let alone what she would ask of him tomorrow—would he have to watch her die again? This wasn’t the fate she wanted for him.

But everything she’d done to try to protect him had failed. Warned him from falling in love with her, pushed him away, pushed him towards someone who’d be there for him the way he deserved, left him so that he didn’t have to witness it all over again. Did she even have a choice anymore?

It struck her like an electric shock: had it ever really been her choice in the first place?

_You aren’t the only one making decisions here. To pretend otherwise will hurt more than yourself._

Oh, _Red_. The kid was too smart, too observant for his own good.

Cloud watched her. To her surprise, he wasn’t much farther down the slope; he must’ve been watching her for a while.

“Aerith?” He called.

But she didn’t have time to think about how to answer, because the ground shook, sending rocks skittering down at them.

Aerith widened her stance, trying to keep her balance on the shifting scree, as another tremor sent another wave of rocks biting into her legs. But she barely felt it with the surge of adrenaline. “Cloud?”

They shared the same astonished look before his gaze locked onto something over her shoulder. And when the blood drained from his face, she knew they were in trouble.

She turned. It came into view, just as it rose over the crest of the pass, impossibly large. The unmistakable crown of eyes. The coiling tentacles. She’d only ever heard stories about them, but every story matched the reality.

_Marlboro._

“We gotta go! Get to the treeline!” Cloud yelled.

She ran for cover, or she tried to. She took a few steps straight down the scree before the rocks gave way beneath her. She fell back, hard onto her ass, careened down the slope, just barely missing Cloud. It burned—her hands, her ass. She knew she’d feel it everywhere later, but it didn’t matter. Cloud was yelling again but she couldn’t hear him over the pounding of her heart.

She tried to scramble to her feet and nearly pitched forward as the ground shook again, only she didn’t. Strong hands held her arms, held her steady.

“I got you. C’mon,” he said right into her ear, so she knew. “Like this.” And then he was pulling her with him.

Aerith didn’t know how he did it. He was infinitely more graceful and controlled than she was, his body angled to match the slope, almost like he was skiing on the rocks with each step. With him clutching her against his chest, she was just barely able to keep her feet under her.

But she couldn’t help it. She looked back, praying that it hadn’t spotted them, praying that it would just pass them by. The Marlboro stood at the center of the pass—nearly filling the entire breadth—but she couldn’t tell if it was gaining ground. The only problem was when she looked back, she didn’t see the large rock that lay in their path.

“Aerith!” And then Cloud’s grip around her shoulders vanished and her foot slammed into the rock with a crack. The pain barely registered as she was pitched forward, soaring head over heels through the air before her body crunched against the rocks.

The next thing she remembered; she lay at base of a huge tree, shaded by the canopy of the forest. The dirt was cold against her face, smelling damp and musty. Everything hurt but especially her ass which felt like sandpaper. “Cloud,” she moaned, trying to push herself up onto her feet. She collapsed immediately onto her elbows; her right foot searing hot when she tried to put her weight on it. No doubt she’d broken it.

She lifted her head, trying to peer around her. On one side, she could see the scree through the trees and how far she’d fallen. It was a miracle that she hadn’t broken anything else. The forest itself was quiet, except for her labored breathing. No sign of the Marlboro, yet.

And then she saw it—his buster sword, lodged into a tree trunk. Maybe 10 meters away. But no sign of him.

Her stomach dropped.

She pushed herself onto her back, instantly realizing that she was missing her pack. She laid there for a few seconds, blinking up at the tree canopy, trying to focus. _Cloud. Find Cloud first_.

She healed herself just enough to take the edge off the pain so she could move—but she’d need a lot more to mend the fracture. Then, hauling herself to her hands and knees, she crawled towards his sword, hobbled by the pain.

She searched the trees desperately for him. “Cloud?” she called, scanning all around, sweat beading on her forehead from the exertion. He had to be around here somewhere. He had to. She half-expected to see his prone form, still and silent on the ground. “Cloud!” She could hear the fear rising in her voice.

“Aerith,” she heard faintly, and she turned to see him limping towards her, clutching his right side. Her pack was in his free hand.

He looked terrible, his arms and face were covered in scratches and his cloak was tattered from the unforgiving rock. But all that mattered was that he was here. She met him halfway, him dropping to his knees and her rising to clutch his arms even though her foot screamed at her.

She’d spent so long worried about her visions, her fate, her death. She hadn’t ever considered the possibility of _her_ losing _him_. He’d always seemed invincible, like nothing could touch him.

“You okay?” She whispered, trying to stop her voice from shaking. She pressed her hand to his side in concern. 

“I’m fine,” he muttered, even as he winced.

She managed a little smile. “Fine, huh?” No doubt he had a broken rib, and maybe a dislocated shoulder by the looks of it.

He glared at her, even as he held her tighter. “I’m more worried about you. You look awful.”

“So romantic, Cloud,” Aerith sighed. Her foot burned in earnest now, the adrenaline wearing off. It took everything not to collapse against him. “Though now that you mention it, my foot’s going to need some work.”

They stumbled to a large tree as far deep into the forest as they could walk, safely out of sight from the pass. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that she collapsed against the tree, her body like jelly. And even though they took turns healing each other—her broken foot needed several rounds—she was still barely able to sit upright on her own by the end.

“No sign of Mr. Marlboro?” She asked warily. The forest was still silent around them, like maybe the planet was willing to cut her a break.

“No,” he replied, his relief palpable. “He took the other way down into the valley.”

The image of the Marlboro at the base of the pass was seared into her memory. She shuddered, like she could feel the coiling tentacles across her skin. She didn’t think twice at lacing her fingers into Cloud’s. “That was close. I can’t believe it didn’t see us.” She almost laughed. “I can’t believe we fell down the mountain and walked away with only a few broken bones.”

He squeezed her hand, leaning his head back against the tree and closing his eyes. “Me neither.” His lips twisted as he said bitterly, “Nothing good ever happens here. I hate this place.”

Aerith stared at him, the weight growing heavy again in her chest. “I’m sorry,” she said at last. “For dragging you here. I didn’t even give you a choice.”

He didn’t open his eyes. “It’s fine.”

She frowned, feeling the hot embarrassment rise into her cheeks. “It’s _not_. You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me.”

Cloud opened his eyes slowly, his expression thoughtful as he searched her face. “I made my choice. I’m here because I want to be.” He kept his voice light, but his next words made her cringe all the same. “But you can apologize for lying to me and throwing me at Tifa if you’d like.”

Aerith blushed but she met his eye determinedly; it was the least he deserved. “I’m sorry, Cloud. For _that_. And for everything else.” She looked down into her lap. “I wish I could give you what you want.”

“What do you think I want?”

She thought about the way he’d held her in the dream, like he never wanted to let go, even though it was inevitable. “A different future.”

“You say it like…” He looked at her as if she’d grown a third head. “Why don’t you want that for yourself?”

“Cloud—"

His voice rose in frustration. “You just broke your foot and all you can think about is how things are affecting _me_? If I weren’t here, you’d have to deal with that Marlboro on your own!” He took a loud breath, shaking his head as if trying to calm himself. “You’re always so worried about what you can do for everyone else. But what do _you_ want?”

_The same things you want_ , she wished she could say. She wanted to live in Kalm for a while, right by the sea, even if she had to lick salt from her lips every day of her life. She wanted just one more hug from Tifa and one more afternoon reading books with Red. She wanted Elmyra to braid her hair again, and her daughter’s hair one day too. And she wanted Cloud, to kiss him so hard that he’d never forget her.

But it never seemed real; it was so small compared to the things she _had_ to do. Save the world. Fight Sephiroth. Keep her friends safe. Those were the important things. What she wanted…was not.

She turned away and closed her eyes, leaning her head against the tree as if to rest. But her voice betrayed her. “It’s impossible, Cloud.”

“I thought it’d be impossible to find you. But here we are,” he said, his voice soft and casual as if he were talking to himself. But he held her hand tightly, insistently. If a future with her was a leap of faith, then he had already dived in headfirst, without a shred of hesitation, without any regrets.

More than anything, she wanted to follow him. She just wished she knew how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My decision to split the last chapter meant that I had to write half of this on the fly and my terrible perfectionism didn't like that. Half of me is apologetic, the other half is #noragrets
> 
> Thank you again for all your feedback and support. I'm so humbled. 
> 
> PS: I plan to update normally over the holidays. Quarantine Christmas means I won't have anything better to do ;D


	6. The Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted a bit early because of the holidays--a lil gift for those of us who are celebrating a Quarantine Christmas this year. 
> 
> CW: hypothermia trope and associated dubious consent with undressing, sexual content with enthusiastic consent (we’ll finally earn our mature rating ;D), unsafe sex 
> 
> If you want to skip the sexy times - stop reading at “Her touch seemed to break the spell that kept him frozen” and then jump to the last two lines of the chapter.

The water was freezing—so cold that it stung _._ No doubt it was fed by the mountain glaciers, a milky azure blue that seemed more brilliant than any sapphire. Her teeth chattered as she bathed one limb at a time and then hunched over to wash out her knotted hair. It was refreshing to be clean again, to scrub away the dust caked into her skin and shake out the tiny pebbles from the scree out of her clothes. Like a new beginning.

Aerith bundled up, pulling on her red breeches underneath her dress and then her thick fuzzy brown jacket over top. Not for the first time, she thanked Serena for the hand-me-downs, even if she would’ve killed for a decent pair of boots. Her socks had already soaked through, her boots having long lost their waterproofing. Her hair she left hanging wet. Undone, it hung to her knees in tangled waves. She would deal with it later.

She picked her way across the rocks strewn near the river into the dense forest, stumbling a few times, probably because her foot was still sore from the now-healed fracture.

They made camp in a meadow not far from where they’d fallen out of sheer exhaustion. It would mean a longer journey to the Forgotten City tomorrow, but it was also deeper in the forest where they could avoid notice—either from Sephiroth or the Marlboro. But there was no escaping the Forgotten City as it loomed over them, more imposing than any mountain, especially with the clouds overhead darkening into a blanket of grey. She quickened her pace, not wanting to get stuck in the promised storm.

She’d learned very quickly that weather in the mountains was unpredictable. The glorious sun from this afternoon was already shrouded and the only sounds around her were the creaking of the trees as the wind whistled past.

Even though she could rationalize it, it was still eerie, as if even the wildlife treaded lightly here. _What are you trying to tell me?_ She wondered. She had not heard the planet since Gold Saucer and couldn’t help the constant thrum of uneasiness that settled over her. 

She smiled in relief at the sight of the tarp shelter and she reached it just as a handful of cold droplets landed on her forehead. Cloud sat by the campfire a few paces away from the shelter, cooking the rabbits he caught on a makeshift spit, seeming totally at ease in the wilderness, cool and untouchable. He made her feel at home here, even if it was the last place she wanted to be.

“Storm’s rolling in fast,” she called, hanging her washed clothes to dry line she’d set up beneath the tarp. Her damp clothes were already crunchy with ice. “Looks like a bad one.” She blew into her hands to warm them up so they would move the way she wanted them to.

“We’ll be fine. Tarp’s sturdy.” He didn’t turn to look at her.

“Of course, it is, I set it up,” she teased. “When’s dinner ready?” Casting round after round of healing on both of them had been grueling. As if on cue, her stomach grumbled at the thought of food.

“Just put them on. Won’t be long now.”

She nodded to herself. She’d mostly subsisted off rations and foraging, so the smell made her mouth water. It reminded her of how much she missed Elmyra’s cooking, even if it had only been a few months since they’d left Midgar.

It felt like longer. Aerith had been a little more innocent, a little more wide-eyed, then. It had been days since she’d taken a long look at herself in a mirror, but she wondered if she’d even recognize herself now.

The fire crackled in the silence. She hung the last of her clothes and made her way over, shivering. Finally, he muttered, “You’re quiet tonight.”

“What? Am I?” She asked, leaning on his shoulder as she dropped to a seat on the ground next to him. The rain was barely a drizzle, but the dampness seemed to pierce through her; she gathered her hair around her shoulder and raised her hood.

He did a doubletake as he glanced at her, his hand shooting out to stop her.

“What?” She asked, amused, her breath wafting like smoke from her lips.

His gaze took her in from head to toe. “Your hair,” he croaked before hastily clearing his throat. “I—I mean, I’ve never seen your hair down like that before. It’s…” He regained his composure, releasing her hand as he turned away. “…beautiful,” he finished.

She brought her hood up, touched. “Thanks, Cloud.” Then she leaned as close to the fire as she could without singeing herself and tucked her balled hands into her lap.

The fire rallied on despite the rain and chill giving the meat a deep color and char. She had a hard time focusing on it though. She wouldn’t have washed up in the river if she’d known how cold it would be. But it was too late—the chill already clung to her insides.

She must not have hid it as well as she thought because Cloud eyed her as she took the skewer he offered. “Yeah, you’re _really_ quiet tonight. You’re usually talking my ears off.”

“Really?” was all she could say. And then she noticed that the meat shook in her shivering hands and she couldn’t make them stop. Even though she ate ravenously, the warm morsels seemed to disappear into the ice block in her belly.

“Here.” Aerith turned to see him take off his gloves and gauntlets and offer his pair of leather gloves to her. She stared at it, her brain not quite processing his intention. “For you,” he added.

“For me?” she repeated. He watched her for a moment and then took her hand, ushering it into the gloves, one at a time, tugging them over her wrist and forearm. They engulfed her, the buttery soft hide extending nearly to her elbows. It was warm and intimate. She flexed her free hand tentatively, still shivering.

“Is that better?” he asked.

Her thoughts were sluggish, like she was wading in the icy river. “But _you_ …?”

“You need them more than I do. You don’t look good, Aerith.”

Aerith touched her cheek and realized she could barely feel them. Either her face or her fingers were numb with cold. “Shit.” She was in trouble. She knew she was in trouble. But it seemed so far away, like something to worry about after she slept. Oh, she was tired. She was so tired.

He frowned, touching the back of his hand to her cheek and then her neck. She flinched at his touch; he was so hot, it stung. Then he moved fast: gathering her into his arms and carrying her out of the rain.

“W-What are you—?” she moaned, weakly trying to wiggle out of his arms.

His grip was steadfast, holding her to his chest even as he ducked awkwardly into her little tent. “It’s okay,” he reassured, setting her down in her blankets. “Let me do this for you.”

He took off his drenched coat and both of their shoes. He swore as he held her feet, socks soaked from her water-clogged boots. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

She gaped at him, not understanding anything he said. But, damn, he was beautiful. He always was. Even when he was crying, he was beautiful. But when had she seen him cry?

“Aerith, stay with me,” he exclaimed, giving her shoulders a shake.

She blinked as he seemed to come into sharp focus again. That had been a different Cloud. This was her Cloud.

He took a few breaths as he looked at her, as if preparing himself for what he was going to do next. “I have to take off your clothes,” he said. “Okay?”

She nodded; modesty was not a priority right now. This feeling was not normal. She was not normal.

“I’m going to take off your clothes,” he announced, again, perhaps to himself, raking a hand through his hair.

She was hypnotized by him as he pushed the jacket off her shoulders and coaxed her arms out of each sleeve. He cast his eyes downwards, studiously training them on a spot over her shoulder as he pulled her dress over her head, undid her bra, and then wrapped her in the pink blanket from her bedroll. His touch was gentle and warm, even though he moved fast.

There were faint spots of pink in his cheeks as he worked, and his lips were pulled pencil thin. She wished she could cajole those lips into a smile. She knew he had the sweetest smile; she’d seen him laugh, once. In her last life. He’d thrown his head back and laughed, once. But not this time. Why? She wanted to ask him, but she was so tired.

“Wrong clothes, wrong gear—what were you thinking?” He muttered as he helped her remove her breeches. He made her wiggle them over her hips and then he did the rest, rolling them down past her legs and tossing them aside. “Running off all on your own. If I wasn’t here…”

If he wasn’t here, she’d be dead. He’d saved her so many times, she was losing count. Wasn’t she supposed to be doing the saving this time? “It’s pointless,” she said. He flinched at it, like she’d punched him, and she didn’t know why. She just closed her eyes, completely exhausted.

He was silent for a while. She heard the rustling of clothing.

Time seemed to stop when, to her bleary astonishment, he sat down beside her, clad in only his underwear, and drew the bed roll over them _both._ Everything seemed a little closer now, a little more real. She could feel the warmth emanating from him right away, but she couldn’t help but stare at him in confusion—at the smooth, muscular expanse of his chest. “Cloud?”

“I have to warm you up,” he said as if that explained everything. And when she continued to gape at him, he said, “C’mon, lie down. You need to rest.”

He guided her to lay on her side so they could both fit in her little bed roll. It was a tight fit even still—they were spooned together, her head resting on his arm and her back flush against his chest with only her thin pink blanket wrapped between them. It should’ve been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. Aerith should’ve desperately tried to keep her distance, but she couldn’t. His heat was reassuring, like the moon in the night sky.

She trusted him completely, she realized. There was no one she would let this close to her. Only him.

He stroked her hair away from her face, running his fingers across her scalp and down the length of her hair. His touch seemed to melt away the tension she carried, seemed to soothe the currents pulling at her until she was drifting, drifting, just drifting away.

“You’re going to be okay,” he whispered, his voice shaking only at the end. “I won’t lose you again.”

Finally, she closed her eyes and let go.

* * *

When she awoke, her body was heavy—she couldn’t even toss and turn. And then she realized that her body wasn’t heavy, but the person draped on top of her was.

She blinked, her eyes focusing instead on the outline of the little snag in her tent illuminated by the straggling moonlight, and the disjointed memories of last night returned. To her surprise, she didn’t panic at the fact that they were naked in her bed roll together (although she was very grateful for her little pink blanket wrapped around her important bits), but she was overwhelmed by a dueling set of gratitude and guilt. If it weren’t for him, she probably would’ve died last night, as if he hadn’t already given up enough to help her, as if she hadn’t already felt like enough of a burden.

She desperately wanted to do it alone. To protect her friends. To protect herself. And over and over she was failing at it.

She pushed it all away. Instead, she let her eyes settle again on him. In the night, she must have spun around and burrowed into Cloud’s chest, greedy for his heat. And he must have welcomed her in, half of his body slung across, his leg hooked on hers, but propped enough onto his side that he didn’t smother her. It made her smile; how thoughtful he was even in his sleep. She took the time to admire him with the rumble of the rain as her only witness. The arm that cradled her neck was so dense with muscle, it surprised her, considering how slim he was. At her eye-level, she was treated to a full view of his sculpted chest—her eyes tracing the peak and valleys along his collarbone, across his pecs, and down to his abs. A mottled, knotted scar the length of her palm ran just above his belly button. Her impulse to touch him was curbed only by her curiosity about how he could’ve possibly survived.

She had never seen him quite like this. He was always sleeping in seated (“It’s a SOLDIER thing,” he’d say), his sword leaning next to him at the ready. Now, his hair had lost its volume and fanned across his face, making him seemed so very young. And his expression: so vulnerable, so at peace, as if the world had left him blissfully untouched. If she could take one picture and carry it around forever, it would be of this moment. The Cloud that no one else got to see—this Cloud. _Her_ Cloud.

She couldn’t help it. She touched his cheek, stroking it gently with her thumb. Looking at this man, touching him, feeling him breathe with her—he made her feel a way that she had never felt before.

At her touch, his eyes snapped open, the mako in his eyes glowing in the darkness.

She pulled away in surprise. She tried to stammer out an apology, pushing herself out of the bedroll.

“Wait!” He rolled on top of her to stop her, pinning her wrists with his hand.

She stared up at him. His eyes were captivating, turquoise like the glacial stream, staring at her with an intensity that was becoming familiar. She’d never been able to read it before—or maybe that was just what she told herself—because it looked an awful lot like love.

“You okay?”

She swallowed hard and nodded. “Much better, I think.”

She felt his body relax in relief as he muttered, “Sorry. You have a bad habit of running off.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.

He hesitated before loosening his grip on her, and she was surprised at how much it stung.

“I guess I deserve that,” she sighed bitterly. “But I get it now. I can’t do it alone.” She turned her head away, feeling lost. She didn’t want to hide from him not because she didn’t trust him, but because she desperately hated the feeling.

His expression softened. “I think our last life proved that you _can_ do it alone. But that doesn’t mean you have to.”

“I know.” She closed her eyes, because if she didn’t, she’d never say it aloud, not even to herself. “But…it’s all I know. It’s easier to be alone than to be betrayed. Or left behind. Or forgotten.”

Cloud stilled, his gaze suddenly far away. There was a long pause and then he said, “After you died, I slept in your church for a while. You were in every ribbon I saw on the street.”

It was strange hearing him talk about a life neither of them lived, but she could hear that strange conviction in his voice, the same conviction that she sometimes felt when she thought about the other Aerith. That her life here and now was so different, and yet she somewhere inside her was that same girl, making those same mistakes all over again.

“I never regretted meeting you,” he continued. “And I would choose it all over again, even if it ended the same way. It was worth it. It still is.”

His expression was so clear and boy-like. He was letting her see the darkest parts of himself—the regret, the heartbreak, but also the fear. There was so much fear in him. Fear of doing something wrong, of her running away again, of losing her all over again. It was there.

And she _had_ run away. Over and over

The realization hit her like a brick to her stomach.

“Why are you here?” She asked, shaking, like she was on the edge of a precipice, staring at an unfathomable drop. “Why are you so amazing to me, even though I don’t deserve it? The way I’ve treated you…It doesn’t make any sense!”

“You believed in me. Always.” He said with awe. “So, it’s my turn.” So simple, and maybe to him it was.

It was beyond belief. But she had to believe it, because he’d showed her, over and over. Shinra Tower. Kalm. Gold Saucer. The cargo ship. He’d held her hand and showed her that it was okay to take the leap, to grab what she wanted with both hands, even if she was terrified.

And then she realized: the only thing standing between her and what she wanted was _her._

She closed her eyes. It surprised her how easy the decision was this time, like breathing.

She laced her fingers in his, and laid his hand flat against her chest, so he could feel the quickening of her heart, so he knew what it did to her to be so close to him. “I won’t leave you again, Cloud. I promise.”

His eyes flickered from her face to his hand and back. “Aerith… what do you want?” he whispered, his voice wavering.

She should’ve been scared. But she wasn’t anymore. How could she be when she had him?

She reached up to brush the strands of his hair away from his face, the golden strands tickling her fingertips. His throat bobbed heavily at her touch, his bottom lip parting as she combed her fingers past his temple. His hair was as soft and delicate as she imagined, like strands of spun silk.

“I want you,” she admitted.

He exhaled loudly, as if he had forgotten to breathe. His eyes widened as he searched her expression. And whatever he found made them crinkle and the corner of his lips quirk upwards.

Yes, this must be what it felt to take the leap of faith, to have every defense and escape melt away as she hurtled towards the ground, in terrifying slow motion, in exhilarating freefall.

She didn’t speak—couldn’t. There was an assuredness in his gaze, a certainty to his grip. He seemed to feel, as she did, the inevitability of it.

_Destiny has its anchors._

It was time.

She kissed him, the fleeting brush of her lips onto his. She pulled back, trying to gauge his reaction but it was like opening a window during a storm—he crushed her to him, claiming her bottom lip with urgency, cradling her neck in one hand and his other hand pressing into the small of her back. Thoughts, intentions, shattered; she clutched his neck, hanging on for dear life. It was like nothing she’d experienced before—her world narrowing more and more until it was just the feel of him, the heat behind his bruising kisses and the tender way he wove his fingers into her hair.

He pulled away first, peering at her through lidded eyes. “I’ve been waiting two lifetimes for that.”

She couldn’t help it; Aerith giggled, filled to the brim with a breathless effervescence. She leaned her forehead against his, thumb caressing his jaw, and teased, “So romantic, Cloud.”

He nudged her nose with his. “I mean it.”

She smiled, nudging him back. “I know.” She slid her hand down to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid pulse of his heart and tapping the solid muscle underneath. It was a reminder that he was real—this was all real—she leaped into the unknown and lived. “I feel it too.”

He kissed her again and again, pressing his weight into her, pinning her against the ground in a way that made her pulse race. She arched into him, trying to memorize the way their bodies fit together just so, with just the thin blanket separating them. There was a heat building in the tent now, or maybe it was just her. She could feel it all over, like the air around them was heavy with it.

Her first kisses had been wet and awkward—the byproduct of gangly limbs and raging hormones—bold experiments that her teenaged self soon grew tired of. Her kisses with Zack had given her butterflies and made her heart pound, made her feel grown up and special, until she realized how fleeting they were.

But with Cloud it was different. It was… an awakening.

Aerith pulled away to look at him. She knew what she wanted now; it was solid and clear. Within reach. All she had to do was be brave.

She pushed herself to seated, breathing hard. She didn’t hesitate—she slid the pink blanket away and tossed it aside. She might’ve felt self-conscious once—but not now. Not anymore. 

Cloud took her in hungrily, his stare roving across her breasts and then following her hair as it cascaded over her shoulder and pooled in her lap. He gulped hard in disbelief; his arms flexing as they were braced on the ground, like he was struggling to keep himself upright. “Huh…?” He breathed.

The thrill of his reaction made her bold. In reply, she closed the distance, kneeling forward and kissing him, hard. If the first jump had been agony, the second was easiest thing in the world.

Her touch seemed to break the spell that kept him frozen. He took her by the shoulders, pulling her into his lap the rest of the way, wrapping his arms around her, pressing her against him. The slide of his skin, of his hands, was intoxicating.

She touched his body the way she had always wanted to, skimming her hand across his forearms, his biceps, his sculpted shoulders. Gently tracing the scar on his chest. She had always known he was strong; it was plain in how he danced during combat, but she’d never felt it more than now in how safe was in his arms.

He flipped them over and then smothered her giggles with kisses.

“Show off,” she teased.

“Just wait,” he promised between each kiss. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

She laughed again, more than anything to tease him, but she tingled with anticipation.

He responded by kissing her like he wanted to mark her, blurring the edge between pain and pleasure. Pressing those hot kisses to her neck and then her breasts, teasing her nipples with his tongue. She arched her back to give him better access, so she could grind herself into the thigh he’d slipped between her legs.

It made her feverish, how much she wanted him, how badly she wanted to be close to him. It was then that she realized how silly she’d been—all that energy she’d spent running away from him only for her body to ricochet back to him more desperately than ever.

But no matter how she pleaded his name, how urgently she tugged at him, he moved achingly slow, as if he intended to savor every bit of it. He teased her with his fingers leisurely, watching her every moan with wide, focused eyes; hungry for her and yet somehow so sweetly shy.

“I want you, Cloud. All of you,” she whispered, and he gazed at her as if she were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. There were no more walls, no more running away. It was just them, building something together, something that was only theirs. He quickened his strokes against her center, stoked a fire higher and higher, all the while pressing sweet kisses down her body, to her belly, to the palm of her hand when she touched his cheek, to the divot of her hipbone.

She wrapped her legs around his shoulders, her hips squirming, wanting more, wanting everything. “Please,” she moaned.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered into her inner thighs like a prayer, pressing a searing kiss into them. “I can’t believe you’re real.” Then he kissed her exactly where she needed him to.

His tongue turned the fire inside her into an inferno. She closed her eyes, instinctively arching her hips against him as it consumed her, and she burned until there was nothing left of her that wasn’t already his. As she caught her breath, he kissed her temple and pressed her to his chest.

She tried to explore his body with the same sort of maddening patience. But it had never been her strong suit. She loved it too much, the innocent way he stared at her as she took him into her hands, the way he stifled his moan when she moved how he liked it. Even better when he wound her hair around his hand as she put her mouth on him, as if she was the only thing keeping him from being swept away. And when he moaned her name, it made her feel powerful, knowing she was the only one to make him feel that way, to push him so close to unravelling. So she drove him to the very edge until he dragged her lips to his mouth instead, rolling on top of her with a growl.

She tossed her head back and laughed in delight.

“Not yet,” he muttered, kissing her with conviction.

“But I liked it,” she pouted playfully.

“So did I,” he replied, with a tilt of his head, “but I’m not done with you yet.”

Even naked and slick from her orgasm, she still had the decency to blush, a shiver running down her spine. “Lead on, then,” she said.

He just smirked.

He eased into her achingly slow. As prepared as she was, it pinched as her body stretched to accommodate his size, although he did his best to make it better, nuzzling her reassuringly, holding her as tightly as she held him. Finally, _finally,_ when it subsided, and they started to move together, hesitantly at first and then assuredly and then faster, until she could feel the tension building in her again.

She closed her eyes, burrowing her face into his shoulder, struck by the difference in sensation. Not intense and all-consuming like before, but softer, steadier, like the morning tide rolling in.

“You feel so good, Aerith,” he murmured into her ear, between his little grunts of pleasure. She kissed him hard in return before pulling back to look at him.

He was so beautiful—his blond hair hanging disheveled across his face, pupils blown black—but it was his expression that amazed her, that stopped her in her tracks. It was like he could see her, the real her, vulnerable and forgotten. The her that was broken and useless, that wanted to give up. He saw her. And yet somehow, he was still here.

It was then that she realized how much she loved him.

She had always thought falling in love would be a big magical moment, a shift so seismic you could feel it in every molecule. A love that burned. A love that consumed.

Instead, it was quiet. Effortless. Like breathing. It built so gradually that she’d never even seen it coming, until every inhale, every exhale, and even every pause between breaths were etched with it.

She understood it now. Why people let themselves fall in love and let themselves be seen; why they’d risk everything for it.

Aerith couldn’t take her eyes off him, arms wrapped around his neck like he was her only anchor. She didn’t let go—not when their pace became frantic, not when she could feel him reaching his edge, and not when he went over, taking her with him.

And, as they caught their breath together and he pressed his forehead to hers and kissed her so sweetly that it made her eyes prickle with tears, she made a silent promise to him too.

She would never leave him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I waffled for a long time on whether to include a sex scene but ultimately, it felt right for them. Definitely curious to know what you think!
> 
> Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays! Stay safe out there! <3


	7. The Sunrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! 2020 was undoubtedly a dumpster fire, but it also gave me time to write again which I hadn’t done for fun in years. And for that, I’ll always be grateful. I hope your 2021 is filled with joy and rest <3

It was quiet. The rain had stopped. It was the first thing she noticed as she stirred. The cloak of darkness was beginning to lift—but not the silence. The planet still slumbered on. Adventuring on her own had been difficult, her ears so attuned to Midgar’s hustle and bustle. But it was different today. Less oppressive, perhaps. It was hard to explain. 

She opened her eyes to the outline of Cloud’s face in the dark and smiled. She couldn’t help but smile at all of it—the scent of him wrapped around her, the feel of his hard body curled against her, even her drool pooling onto his arm. She might’ve thought it was a dream, but even dreams weren’t this good.

Aerith stretched with a lazy yawn, careful not to wake him. She put on the clothes that she could find, unfortunately, only her underwear and her brown fluffy jacket. She abandoned her search for more clothes, feeling loud and clumsy and not wanting to wake him. Even still, he slept deeply without stirring. He must be exhausted—he was usually the lightest sleeper of all of them. She pressed a kiss to his forehead before crawling out of the tent.

She inhaled the crisp and cool air with a sigh, wrapping her coat around her just a little tighter. A low fog crept through the trees. She wandered into the clearing, the ground still damp and cold with rain, her feet sinking gently into earth.

She didn’t have to go far for the view she was looking for. A haze of fiery orange was just barely visible over the tree line, slicing through the midnight sky. And with it, the fog shrank back, fleeing with the retreating darkness.

It was beautiful.

Aerith promised herself that she would watch the sunrise on her last day. She thought it would be a fitting last gift when she would need it the most, as the dread and panic set in. 

Instead, she hummed. It surprised her, how the silence didn’t seem so immense today, how the mountains seemed to watch with her like great sentinels, how the delicate alpine wildflowers that dotted the fields seemed to sing with her. She wasn’t afraid. Something had changed.

Her.

Aerith kneeled, gazing at the lush carpet of colors. She cupped a stalk of vibrant pink orchids in her palm, thumbing its soft petals. She moved with a lightness that surprised her—like she’d let go of something that had weighed her down.

She closed her eyes. Already, she could feel it rushing beneath her feet. The Lifestream. After months of quiet, it returned to her easily like a gush of water flowing through a barren bank. It filled all the empty spaces inside her. She gasped at the sensation—gentle, like a sprout darting through the earth. 

Her awareness expanded as it always did when she connected to the Lifestream. From the squirming life in the dirt beneath her feet to the eagle that circled the mountains above. She could feel the steadiness in Cloud’s heartbeat. She could feel the others—Tifa and Red and Barret, who were coming for her, really and truly, picking their way through the mountains. Ifalna too, in the stalks of grass that caressed her fingers. She could feel their love for her like a current that pushed her forward.

The Lifestream was back. She thought it had left her stranded when she needed it most. But that wasn’t true. It had been here all along. She’d just been too afraid to reach out and listen, afraid of what it might tell her, that maybe she had it wrong.

She’d made enough mistakes trying to do what she thought she was supposed to do—recklessly pushing Cloud towards Tifa, running from the people she loved, convincing herself that she was protecting the very people she ended up hurting. Finally, she realized the truth: she was at a dead end with nothing to show for it except remnants of a past that had gone terribly wrong.

The other road still scared her, still made her hesitate, but she also knew that it was out of her control now. All she could do was have faith.

The orange crown of the sun peered over the mountain ridge, its warmth finally kissing her face. She clasped her hands to her chest and closed her eyes, offering a prayer to the planet.

_Help me protect you. Guide my way. Please_.

She repeated it over and over, the way Ifalna had taught her, until she was certain that the planet had heard her.

And then just as she was about open her eyes, she gasped at the familiar sensation—the scent of rich moss and the pressure of cascading water against her eardrums. Like falling backwards into a dream.

After, she found herself in the meadow once more, kneeling on the moist earth. The chill of the morning returned, but she didn’t feel cold. She closed her eyes, trying to recapture the vision.

She opened her eyes to the dawn with more certainty than ever.

It was time to walk a new path.

It was time to stand her ground and fight for the future she wanted.

It was time.

* * *

He dreamt of yellow flowers, a field of them spanning horizon to horizon, stalks swaying in the gentle breeze. The yellow petals reached skywards to the clear sea of blue, as if they yearned to touch. He brushed the flowers—lilies, he thought—with the tips of his gloved fingers.

He was searching for something. He no longer could recall what it was, but it didn’t matter. He’d know once he found it. And he would give everything for it, even if it had no name, because it would be worth it. He knew because he’d had it once and lost it.

He walked the endless field of yellow flowers, searching. The pink ribbon on his left arm fluttered in the wind.

When Cloud awoke, he had the strangest sense of déjà vu. The image of the yellow flowers kissing the blue sky was seared into the space behind his eyelids. Ever since Nibelheim had been destroyed, he was plagued by what Zack had called night terrors and he never remembered them. So it was strange that he’d remember this one. Unless it was no dream.

A memory, then.

He stretched with a slow yawn, feeling good, for once. It was the soundest sleep he’d had in months.

It was only when he rolled over that he noticed the coolness of the bedroll against his body, the trace of her scent that clung to him, the emptiness her body had left behind.

Cloud bolted upright. There was only one place she could be. The last place he ever wanted to return to.

The memories flooded him as he scrambled for his clothes. No matter how he tried to shake them away, he saw it as if it were happening all over again.

Her kneeling at the crystal altar, the rays of light glancing off her hair. She’d taken his breath away in relief—he’d been so worried about her. And then her falling forward like a ragdoll, impaled by Sephiroth’s blade, blood blooming through her pink dress. Lost to him forever.

His mouth was dry when he snapped back to the tent. He smacked himself on the side of his head to pull himself out of it.

He had to catch up to her. He had to.

Cloud paused, tilting his head as he realized that her pack was still there, her belongings still scattered from where he’d pawed through to find dry clothes for her last night.

She wouldn’t have left without her pack and supplies, right?

Cloud crawled out of the tent, groggy, heart pounding, and half-dressed. He slipped on the damp grass to his knees. He nearly collapsed the rest of the way in relief when he saw her kneeling a few feet away, barefoot in the clearing, wrapped in nothing but that terrible fuzzy jacket. She seemed small and delicate amid the soaring mountains and the endless emerald green of the forest, like the wildflowers scattered at her feet.

He must’ve uttered her name because she turned to him expectantly, rising to her feet, a smile spreading across her lips, her messy braid swinging over her shoulder. For a split second, it was the same smile she’d given him as she knelt at the altar, the same twinkle in her eye, like she’d been waiting for him to catch up with her. It felt like forgiveness, just as it had then, something he didn’t deserve. The pain in his chest was vicious, like a shard was still lodged there from the first time his heart shattered.

He blinked, desperately, and yet there she still was. Not a vision or a dream or a memory. She was whole and every bit as real as the cold dew stinging his hands. He scrambled towards her, a burgeoning warmth replacing the pain as he took in the way the dawn kissed her skin in all the places he’d worshipped the night before. Her rose petal lips, the milky expanse of her belly, her silky thighs.

She was so beautiful.

And safe.

He took her in his arms, resting his chin on her shoulder, closing his eyes to hold back the flood of emotion that threatened to surge. She smelled like flowers and the earthiness after the rain.

She laughed in surprise. “Cloud?”

“I thought you’d left me,” he answered without thinking.

“Oh, Cloud.” She tried to pull away, but he didn’t let her, he held her tight to him as if he could burrow himself into her neck. She softened, pressing a kiss to his head, “I promised myself I’d watch the sunrise. I didn’t even think…” She sighed. Stroking his hair, she said, “I won’t leave you again.”

He pulled back to look at her, not knowing what to say. All he could think about was that night at the Gold Saucer hotel, how she’d said goodbye to him knowing she was going to her death and he hadn’t known something was wrong, hadn’t even suspected. Different Cloud, different timeline, same mistakes. Mistakes he couldn’t afford to repeat, not when he knew what was at stake now.

He searched her expression stubbornly for any sign of doubt. Before, when she’d lied to him on the boat, her playfulness and joy had been replaced with a cold stare, like she’d locked away her feelings far from reach. He was almost afraid to find that expression now.

It must’ve shown on his face because she added, “I know I’ll need to prove it to you. And I will. Today and every day.” And then she just met his gaze patiently, green eyes clear and calm like the forest. Like she understood him even when he didn’t.

Finally, he exhaled, and all the tension rushed out of him. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Her smile blossomed across her lips and it made his heart clench in disbelief at how beautiful she was. “I know you will and I’m glad. A plant can’t grow without its roots, you know.”

As he looked at her, he could feel a calm wash over him, like feeling his feet on solid ground again. He turned away from her, hiding his smile, lacing his fingers in hers. “Good. Now you’re stuck with me.”

Aerith tilted her head, peering up at him. “Actually, it’s more like _you’re_ stuck with _me._ Aren’t you worried? _”_

He remembered the torrent of impossibly vivid memories of their past life, of having her and then losing her. He would never forget the despair and horror. But they were just memories. It was nothing compared to waking on the cliff to cold emptiness where she’d felt so warm and solid and certain in his dreams. Of losing her in _this_ life.

“Not really,” he said at last. Gripping her tighter.

“Oh, you secret romantic,” she murmured, poking him in the side.

He was too slow this time. “Hey, those fingers are sharp!” He complained.

She giggled and it was a struggle to keep the frown on his face. Even if he had to spend the rest of his life being teased and poked mercilessly, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Even if last night never happened again, even if she didn’t love him back, he would be happy to just to be by her side, a moon forever caught in her orbit.

“Cloud…thank you. For believing in me. Especially when I couldn’t believe in myself.” Then she shook her head, incredulous. “It’s funny. I was so desperate for reassurance, some sign from the planet that things were going to be okay. It never came. But now that I don’t need it…I had a vision this morning.” She sighed, at a loss for words. “I’m not sure what the planet’s trying to tell me.”

Cloud watched her carefully. “Aerith…does it matter? Do _you_ believe in it?”

Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over, like the surging of the ocean. It happened so quickly; Cloud didn’t have time to react. She just stared at him wide-eyed. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “I really do.”

Cloud wiped the dampness from her cheek with his thumb, as gentle as he could. “That good, huh?”

She smiled and it was so blindingly incandescent, he wished he could bottle it. “Do you want me to tell you about what I saw? I won’t keep any more secrets from you.”

For a moment, he itched to know what made her react this way. But it disappeared just as fast. He was sick of chasing visions and memories. All he wanted was to be in this moment with her.

“No,” he said at last. “I don’t need a vision to tell me that we’re going to be okay.”

Aerith snorted and then stroked his cheek, eyes glittering. “I’m so glad you’re here.” And then she wrapped her slender arms around him, leaned her head on his shoulder, and melted into him.

He rested his cheek on the top of her head, closing his eyes. “Always,” he replied, inhaling the sweet scent of flowers in her hair, and memorizing the way her small hands clung to his body.

There was no escaping the dread of the journey ahead. But the fact that this moment existed, that the old Cloud had found a way to do the impossible, to give him a second chance at saving her. At having _this._

It was all the reassurance he needed.

* * *

#### Epilogue – The Vision

Aerith glanced around. The mountain meadow was gone. Instead, she stood in a field of radiant sunflowers, the air hot and damp against her skin. The blooms were enormous, standing to her chest, and yellow like the sun. She touched one brown fuzzy center and jumped away as it tickled her fingertips. She stared at it, dumbfounded at how real it felt.

A high-pitched shriek. She turned.

A charming girl of eleven or twelve, brown hair cropped to her chin, playing with another child. Aerith knew her immediately. _Marlene._ She looked so mature already, her cherub cheeks melting into high cheekbones, like she was already one step into adolescence.

And wherever Marlene went, Barret was never far behind. He watched his daughter from the paddock, sliding a hammer into his toolbelt as he stood beside the skeleton of a barn. He looked the same as he always did, just as towering but a little softer, less densely muscled, perhaps, and his beard flecked with grey. His gun-arm was replaced by a metal claw hand. He nodded at Aerith and she waved back, hesitantly, disbelieving.

Barret turned at something, at a little woman ambling towards him from the squat farmhouse, holding out a glass of lemonade. She had her long black hair swept into a side ponytail and wore a white tank top and ripped black jean shorts. And when Barret accepted the glass and pressed a gentle kiss on the top of the woman’s head, Aerith shivered.

They exchanged a few words and then the woman spun around, noticed Aerith, and waved. Tifa’s megawatt smile made her chest squeeze with longing. Aerith nearly burst into tears at how real it felt, at how desperately she wanted this reality.

Another high-pitched shriek. And then something that made her stomach drop: “Mama!” And again, unrelenting, “Mama! Mama!”

Aerith searched for the sound, for the sweet child voice. Not Marlene’s. Another’s. It was a little boy Marlene had been chasing, a boy with green eyes and a mop of blond hair. And when the boy met her gaze from across the sunflower field, time seemed to stop. She didn’t know his name, she could hardly see his face, but already she loved him.

He flashed her a devilish smile, already missing a tooth, and yelled, “Mama, look! I catched Marlene!”

She staggered, part of her aching to run to him, to hold him and breathe in his baby scent. She’d never held him, but somehow she knew how perfectly he fit into her arms, how silky his skin was, like finding a piece of her that she hadn’t known was missing.

Instead, she nodded to him encouragingly, her eyes filling with tears.

The boy spun on his heel and cackled as he went back to the game. She blinked away the tears frantically so she could watch him, the way he waddled, the way he balled his chubby fists, the way he puffed his cheeks in focus. So she could replay it over and over.

“You like it here?” The voice sent chills down her spine. So familiar, and yet a little hoarser, a little rougher around the edges.

She turned to him, to his ice blue eyes, and spiky blond hair that matched his son’s. Cloud climbed over the paddock fence, dressed in dark blue coveralls hanging open to his hips and a grease-stained white t-shirt underneath. His toolbelt seemed to be the only thing keeping the ensemble from rolling down to his ankles, but it suited him. It all seemed to suit him—because he was smiling. Her heart swelled to bursting.

He jumped down from the fence with ease and then sauntered over. He was as handsome, as strong and lithe, as ever. It was only a straight scar across his right cheek that she didn’t recognize. She fought the urge to kiss him there, to grow something beautiful out of it. 

Instead, she took it all in, their son, their farm, their friends, quietly wiping away her tears. “I-I-I love it.” Of all the futures she prayed for, she never dared to ask for something so beautiful.

“Are you sure? Because Barret and Tifa are talking about moving in down the road,” he grumbled with a grimace.

Aerith laughed, a full belly one. It was a release. It was…pure joy.

He wrapped her up in his arms, pressing a kiss into her temple, still smiling. She stared at him and all she could think was, _I love you. I love you. I love you._

The thing she’d always remember was the feel of him: warm and solid and reassuring.

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I finished the Remake, I was conflicted, and I think a lot of us were. On one hand, this growing glimmer of hope that maybe we can defy fate; on the other, 23 years of suffering. Do we dare to hope or is it easier to expect (and accept) the worst?
> 
> I think that was why I was so drawn to them again. I needed the catharsis and they deserved to finally be together. So I really hope this ending feels that way to all of you—a sigh of relief for those of us who've been rooting for them for a very long time.
> 
> I know I’ve said it a couple times now, but I am completely blown away at the reception this humble little story got. Before posting this, I figured I’d get maybe two comments if I was lucky. And now I honestly can’t describe what it means to me to have so many people invested in the words I wrote. Before, I’d always say “I used to be a writer” or “I used to love writing.” It was something I didn’t think I’d ever rediscover. And now knowing that people are reading with me—you guys have made me feel like maybe I am a writer again. And that’s a gift that I’ll always treasure. This community has been so kind and welcoming, and I won’t ever forget it.
> 
> Thank you for reading, for leaving kudos, for commenting, for just giving this story a chance. Thank you so much <3
> 
> Til next time!


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